


This Is Just Like in the Movies

by starkmurdockxavier



Category: Iron Man (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Angst, Canon Compliant, Dancing, F/M, Famous people, Female Tony Stark, Fluff, Love at First Sight, Multi, POV Alternating, Smut, Tags May Change, Texting, Tony Stark Flirts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-06-22 01:31:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 36,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15570786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkmurdockxavier/pseuds/starkmurdockxavier
Summary: Steve Rogers annually attends to a lot of ceremonies, galas, parties. As an A-list actor, there is consistently a good number of fellow celebrities who are eager to meet and chat with him at those various events. The first years, he was as astonished to meet them, but time eventually dulled those feelings; no one he met ever really spiked his interest anymore.This year, he gets the double present of meeting someone who’ll be the first to get his blood rushing in years, and getting to experience love at first sight.





	1. The Party

When Steve lays his gaze on the woman, he takes notice of two facts: 1) He doesn’t think he's ever seen her before. It's rather unsettling, considering he is currently at a party thrown by a very famous actor (Charles Xavier) and his equally famous boyfriend (Erik Lehnsherr), which means that basically all the guests are celebrity. 2) She is, by far, _the_  most attractive person he’s ever seen. That says a lot; during his career, he's seen a fair share of beautiful people when meeting fellow actors, actresses and rich - therefore, well-groomed and chic - people.

 

Steve came with Sam, Natasha and Bucky after getting ready at Bucky’s place.  
At first, Steve was going to dress up in a suit, believing that they were going to a gala of some sort. Upon seeing him with a tuxedo in hand, Sam hurried to correct Steve's wrong assumptions to specify that it is but a casual party in honour of Erik’s new modelling contracts with two huge magazine agencies: Glamour and ASOS.

With the help of Nat, who’s a self-proclaimed fashion connoisseur/expert, Steve settled with a light blue button-up shirt, dark khakis, and to top it off, an expensive watch.  
“The blue shirt highlights your eyes. And you should roll up your sleeves, Rogers; girls love that a lot more than you’d expect,” she informed him with a smirk. Steve executed what he was told with a raise of his eyebrows.

When they arrived at Charles’ mansion, they were greeted with a cup of champagne and a blast of deafeningly loud music.

They eventually scattered around (Sam probably went third-wheeling Bucky and Nat), leaving Steve alone. Being on his own neither stressed or irritated him; without difficulty, he got into conversations with various people.

After his ninth conversation (or more accurately, his ninth small-talk), he glanced at the nearest clock and heaved out a heavy sigh. It had been only 40 minutes since he stepped into this place. Disappointed, but not surprised.

Such evenings - award shows, celebrations, dinners, whatever - did drain him more than it energized him, unlike in Sam’s or Natasha’s cases, who loved to call Steve an old man because of it. One of their passions was to harass Steve with useless advice such as: “You need to let yourself loose, just relax and have fun, it's okay if you don't win Best Actor!” “This is nothing more than a casual social gathering, just relax and drink a few litres of alcohol!”

Although he knew that they were never serious about their advices and were only parodying those merry people in life who genuinely believe that telling someone to just relax actually improves said person's situation, he did really try to follow their guidance, every now and then. But if he was frank with himself, he still felt a bit forced to go out - not by his friends, but by himself. Steve knows he would much prefer to stay home to do something antisocial, like drawing.

He was getting old anyway, nearing 35. To add fuel to the fire, he had been doing this stuff for 11 years: his first blockbuster movie was when he was 22. His career stayed steady enough for him to still be a relevant actor to this day, which meant that a notable amount of invitations poured yearly into his mail.

God knows how he managed to stay on the list of top 100 most successful actors anyway, instead of getting swiped away by the wave of new hit actors. He’s grateful for it, of course, and makes sure he communicates his thanks during the rare times he says his prayers.

Steve usually leaves before 20:00. The soirée would always start to really bore and tire him after one and a half hour. Sometimes his close friends leave with him, most often not, but he still makes sure to notify them beforehand

He actually was on the hunt for them when he sees that stunning mystery woman.

 

Being somebody with a big artistic side, he likes to take his time to not only admire, but also to observe the beautiful things in life. So naturally, he starts staring at the resplendent woman, from head to toe. Creepy, he knows, but there’s just something about her that takes his breath away.

Her cherry red cocktail dress and her gladiator heels of the same colour fit her with perfection. Her straight, marionberry black locks are up in a bohemian braid bun that shows off a defined jaw complexion. The whole look is completed with stunning honey gold jewelry: drops earring, lace choker and chain bracelets. She has manifestly a Nat-level sense of fashion.

He then is flabbergasted by the fact that he knows the name of the precise type of shoe she’s wearing. And how he knows what her bun is exactly called. ‘Someone is spending too much time with Natasha.’

The thing is, it isn’t just her physicality and her pretty face. When you look at her, especially when she’s engaged in a conversation, you just see that she’s one of those confident, maybe borderline arrogant, but charming extroverts. When she talks, everyone in her entourage give 120% of their attention.

She wears her confidence like that a crown. Easy smiles, elegant postures, swell words (at least, Steve guesses, identifying the looks of admiration from the people around her when she opens her mouth). For some reason, her apparent cockiness doesn’t bother good-ol’ humble Steve at all.

The current group she’s conversing with are laughing, what, every 10 seconds? Steve sneers. Are they trying to gratify her or is what she says genuinely hilarious?

Steve’s itching to go talk to her, maybe buy her a drink, but decides that the smartest play would be to wait for her to be alone. Which might not happen: Steve has noticed that girls tend to stay with at least one other person when they’re out. Security reasons, he assumes.

After exchanging words that are unmistakably goodbyes, Cherry Red Dress turns around and heads towards the bar, accompanied by a handsome young man. Following a second look, Steve recognizes the man: it’s War Machine. He’s a relatively mainstream, but successful hip-hop artist. Also, obviously, ‘War Machine’ is his stage name; if Steve remembers correctly, his actual name is James Rhodes.

He doesn’t realize he was feeling a tad bit of annoyance/jealousy, until he breathes out a sigh of relief at the sight of Rhodes kisses another woman, who was waiting for him at the bar. He looks at the familiar face of Rhodes’ lover. Extremely short, straight blonde hair and a face with sharp features? It’s Carol Danvers, an actress whose popularity blew up after starring as the main character of some superhero movie.

“Steve! There you are!” yells Bucky from behind him, making Steve whip around. Scott Lang, one of those pop singers whose songs are exasperately overplayed on the radio, is with them, his right arm anchored around Sam’s shoulders.

  
“Where’s Nat? Don’t tell me you abandoned your dame for Scott,” Steve jokes, faking an scolding tone. “That is very not gentleman-y of you.”  
They all laugh, because they all know it was Natasha who abandoned the two guys to go socialize with her 50 other friends.

“Hey, I haven’t had a real drink yet!” exclaims Scott, already attempting at pulling Sam along with him. “Let’s get wasted. Who wants to start the round of shots?”  
“I have a better idea. Later, we could round up a few people and come back to my place. It’ll be like an after party, plus we have an excessive amount of booze that Nat doesn’t like.”  
“Geez, Buck. You throw after parties at every single party we go. Isn’t THAT a little excessive?”  
“Aw, Steve’s back at it again, acting like a 70 years old grandpa,” Bucky teases his friend with a smirk.

Steve grumbles after that comment, which furthermore proves Bucky’s point. Randomly, he blurts out:

“Do any of you know who’s the lady over there?” Steve ‘subtly’ points at Cherry Red Dress with his chin, and 3 heads turn. Steve cringes because he’s sure the designed person had spotted them.  
“Ooh, Stevie,” Bucky smirks at him. “Is this why you haven’t asked to leave yet? Finally found something… captivating?”

Steve shoots his best friend a glare dead in the eye.

“Okay okay. Yeah, I think I’ve seen her before,” Bucky starts, and then scratches his head, trying to remember something. “Oh yeah, she’s not really your traditional celebrity who got known thanks to the media, that’s probably why we don’t really know who she is. She’s a member of one of the richest families in the world. Forgot if it was the Rand family or maybe... the Von Doom one? I just know she’s one of the billionaires,” Bucky finishes, with a tone of incertitude.

“Nah, she’s a Stark. Her name is Antonia Natasha Stark. Her dad used to have business with the father of that cool girl I know, who is kinda my girlfriend,” Scott answers with a snort. He clears his throat. “Anyhow, you wanna hear something impressive? I’ve seen Antonia on the main cover of the Forbes, Rolling Stone AND Time magazines.”

Steve sighs. The name Stark did ring some bells. Their legacy was initiated by a businessman named Howard Stark, whom he knew a little bit and met once, years back from now, at a charity event. He knew Howard had a child, but didn't have the faintest idea that it was a daughter, and even less that she was this young.  
“I probably shouldn’t even waste her time by talking to her. She is clear-ly out of my league. I mean, Forbes? That’s just- whew. And at this age?”

“Aw, come on man. You know what they say: ‘nothing is impossible, the word itself has ‘I'm impossible’!” Buck snickers at the cringiness of the generic quote.

“And, I mean,” Sam grabs Steve’s shoulders, pushing him towards the bar, “the worst thing that could happen would be that you get completely and utterly ignored by her.”

James and Carol had gone elsewhere who knows how long ago. But instead of them, at Antonia’s right was standing a tall lady with indescribably bouncy golden hair - Emma Frost, a Victoria's Secret supermodel.

Steve, having channeled all the confidence he could, joins the two women with what he hopes is a charming smile on his face. With the three men on his left making a poor effort in looking like they’re just minding their own business and staring ‘casually’ in Steve’s direction, pretending they're admiring the decorations, Steve gets a little more nervous. He knows that Antonia is not buying their act and probably judging them internally.

“Good evening, ladies. May I buy you beautiful women a drink?” Steve says, holding his gaze on only one of them.

Emma replies instantly with a big smile. “Oh, of course you may, darling.” She swirls around and orders a vodka martini. Steve hands the bartender 10$ and tells him to keep the change.

Steve keeps his smile but shifts back his eyes onto who he truly came here for.

“What about you?”

Antonia leans back on one elbow and stares back with a coy expression. From up close, her facial features are even more exquisite. Hollow cheeks, chiseled jawline and azure blue irises. Her dark eye makeup does nothing but complement her eyes’ gorgeous colour. Steve notices an ear cuff on one of her ears’ cartilage. He discovers that he has an ear cuff kink.

She bats her eyes and lets out a long sigh. “Unfortunately, I don’t drink. But we can still talk, if you want to, although I do know a few places quieter than here.”

Steve almost blushes at the flirtation. Her smile is ravishing. “Nice to meet you. I’m Steve.”

“Antonia. But you can call me Toni. I actually prefer that name.”

She then holds her hand out. Maybe it’s a habit she developed as a businessperson?

Steve wraps his fingers around her hand and surprises Toni by bringing it to his lips and leaving a chaste kiss on the back of her hand, instead of shaking it like she expected. He can imagine Sam and Bucky smirking at him and praising his whooing skills in his head. “It’ll be my pleasure to please you, Toni.”

Emma, who had been sipping her martini, finishes it at last and taps on her friend’s shoulder. “I am so sorry, Toni, but I just remembered that I haven't congratulated Erik yet.” She kisses both of her cheeks before pressing one smooch on Steve’s. “Thanks for the drink, and enjoy your talk” she emphasizes the last word while looking meaningfully at Antonia with a sly smile before skedaddling away.

Steve refocuses his attention on the pretty brunette. She was already looking at him, which throws him off-guard. They gaze into each other’s eyes.

His concentration is snatched away when Toni suddenly looks down. Steve, startled, copies her and sees their still-laced fingers. “What, are we already in the holding-hands stage?” Toni comments with a raised eyebrow.

Steve lets out a little breathless laugh. Toni straightens up and takes a step closer to the blond man. “Do you want to find somewhere to sit down? I’ve been standing up for a while now, and these heels are killing me.”

Steve, who was tired from the moment he stepped out of Bucky’s condo, agrees. She pulls him towards a more secluded part, away from the blaring speakers, where there are fancy metal chairs and sits down, offering a devastatingly endearing smile up at the blonde man. There are a few people babbling around them, but Toni and Steve care as much about those presences as they do about them.

They get if off immediately. They talk about anything and everything for what feels like 20 minutes. Steve shares more personal anecdotes with her than he's ever shared with anyone in such a short span of time. They mutually make each other laugh to tears with their respective stories. He learns that Toni's not only an entrepreneur, but also a mind-blowingly brilliant mechanic. She has three doctorates and got her double Masters from university when she was sixteen. Sixteen.

Steve knows that Toni wouldn’t mock or judge him even the slightest, but he still feels embarrassment when he reveals that he only did one year of art school for college and is basically just a highschool graduate. Toni shrugs it off and says that all of her education merits happened because her father had a lot of money. “College is already expensive, and you could literally buy a car with the yearly amount paid for the university I went to.”

Steve doesn’t add that her being a genius has nothing to do with her family’s wealth. Instead, he says: “I met Howard once. He's very sympathetic.”

“He wasn't always so nice to me. But maybe that's a regular thing with adoptive fathers.”

Steve, incredulous, stays silent for a moment.

“Do you know your biological parents?”

“My real dad's gone, but yes, I know my mom.” A smile draws itself on Toni’s lips. “She’s an amazing woman.”

They peel off from the sensitive subject when Steve tells Toni about how he used to weight 45kg at the age of 16, and she says “No waaay! Really?” with a bewildered laugh. Steve did have a very defining shift caused by his (late) puberty.

 

When Steve glances at a clock, it indicates 22:29, which is shocking, but at the same time, not really. Steve doesn’t want to sound cliché, but cannot find any other word to describe Toni when he says that she’s truly different from anybody he’s ever met.

She has a sarcastic, dry humour that is topped off by cheesy one-liners. She has a cocky surface to her personality, but isn’t really boastful, per say. Steve feels like if he dug deeper, he’d discover that it’s nothing but an armour that hides a marshmallow-soft heart.

Toni could be talking about what she ate for breakfast and he’d be somehow captivated. Or, better: she could be talking about how gas turbines used in fighter jets worked and he’d still be hooked at her words. Maybe it’s her extremely pleasant voice, maybe it’s her relentless gape; her eyes almost never stray from Steve’s, whether she’s the one talking or the one listening.

Plus, she doesn’t just hear what Steve says, she listens and gives back smart remarks. In return, she likes to talk a lot too.

Toni suddenly gets up from her seat and stretches her arms while scrunching her eyes. Steve simply can’t help but look fondly at her.  
“We’ve been here for a while, haven’t we? Wanna g-”

“Listen up, people!” interrupts a man with a mic in hand. Steve identifies the British-accented voice to be Charles Xavier, one of the two hosts. He turns towards the stage and yep: there’s the guy sitting in his wheelchair. “I have the immense pleasure to announce you that the long-awaited karaoke stage is finally open! Let the real party begin! We’ll start with mister Peter Parker’s new hot single, “I Don’t Wanna Go”, which will be sung by him in duo with miss Shuri!”

Loud cheers explode from everywhere. Steve internally sighs. It’s been three days since that melancholic pop song about heartbreak had come out, yet he feels like he’s heard it two hundred times already. He could already hear the damn guitar chords in which the song begins.

“By the way,” Charles continues, “there are still one mic left for any other joiner!”

A dozen people start screaming 'Me!' and rushing to the stage, all wanting to be first and get the mic. None of them beats Peter Quill at it.

Just as he hears Peter Parker himself come up on stage and start awkwardly with 'Uhh, hey guys', Toni tugs at Steve’s hand. He looks down at her and almost squeals; they’ve never been that close: Toni must’ve pulled her chair closer while he was distracted. He has to restrain himself hard to not do something out of place, like kiss her right here and right now at the sight of her simultaneously adorable and hot face. A grin painted itself on her red lips just as she leans her head next to his ear and says:  
“Hey, I was going to ask you if you wanted to dance? I know that song’s depressing as hell, but it’s perfect for a slow.”

“Alright, but first, I really need to drink something” replies Steve. Steve takes her hand and lifts her up, before making her do a twirl.

Toni tries to suppress a smile and fails.

They head to the bar, where he asks if they have lemonade. Miraculously so, they do, and while waiting for the bartender, they listen to the final part of Peter Parker’s speech.  
“Anyways, uhh, thank you again for supporting my new song! It’s very much appreciated, thank you!” he finishes with a big, awkward smile. The song starts with the guitar strums, and even though it’s been starting to annoy Steve’s ears, he’s got to admit that the melody is really nice.

The two of them sip their iced drinks for a minute, before putting them down on one of the numerous tables and going straight to the crowded dance floor.

The chorus is playing, but it’s still relatively a very gentle and calm melody. They sway among everyone in the dance floor, Steve enjoying his partner’s touch on his shoulders.  
The next song played radiates a completely different vibe: it’s an alternative song full of energy. People are jumping around and moving fast. Steve feels like an oven had been turned on and is slowly raising the room’s temperature, bit by bit. Or perhaps it is just Toni’s proximity that is making him flushed?

After 10 minutes of dancing that had turned into 20 minutes of just bodies pressing against each other and moving together, grinding, Steve feels a vibration on his back pocket. That extirpates him from the eyes and body of the woman in front of him. He wipes his forehead lightly with the back of his hand before bringing his hands onto Toni’s waist. He leans into her ear. “Hey, do you want to get out of here?” His phone vibrates again.

Toni says nothing and wets her lips before dragging him outside of the house, where there are already couples, small groups and loners who are talking, drinking and/or smoking. She tells him to stay here for a moment, before entering back into the building.

Steve pulls out his phone and sees 3 messages, one from 2 hours ago and the two most recent ones from earlier.

From Bucky, delivered at 21:50: i see you got into deep conversation with that hottie [smirk emoji]. nat and i are gonna leave with a bunch of people and go to my place, alright? feel free to join us if you want to, and i don’t mind if u bring her along

From Natasha, delivered at 23:16: Is everything good? Just making sure. If you need a ride, call Sam.

From Natasha, delivered at 23:17: Don’t forget, tomorrow you’ll have to tell me what happened with that girl. I want to know everything. (Can’t believe I finally won’t have to actively try to find you a girlfriend.)

He answers with ‘Roger that’ to Bucky’s text and starts to type out a reply for Natasha, but Toni comes back before he finishes. He closes his phone and tucks it back into his pocket.  
She has two fresh new glasses of lemonade in hand and a sweet smile on her face. “These are actually our unfinished glasses from before, but I got them refilled.”

Steve receives the cup with the most ice cubes and takes a big gulp. “Thanks.” He looks at her, wondering why she kind of just skipped his previous question. She seems to have guessed what he was thinking about, because she bends down to sit on the stairs and pats next to her. Steve takes the invitation and does the same. She leans on his shoulder and cuddles closer. Steve wraps an arm around her

“Tonight has been wonderful,” she lets out with a happy sigh. Toni turns her eyes away from the sky and redirects them to Steve’s eyes while a smile slowly creeps out. “But do you what was even more wonderful?”

Steve can’t help but burst out a laugh at that cheesier-than-a-mozzarella-ball line.

“You,” she finishes with a grin that could lit up the whole world.

He still can’t believe how he found someone who he just gets along with so well. He feels as if they’ve known each other their whole life, and sure as heck already cherishes her as if that was true, which is a feeling he didn’t think was possible within 5 hours of knowing someone. For the gazillionth time today, he gets overcome with the impulse of wanting to kiss the adorable, genius of a human being in front of him.

So he does. He leans his head down, closing slowly the gap between their faces while maintaining eye contact, and he’s few centimeters from her lips-

“You asked earlier if I wanted to… go back home with you,” she whispers. “I have to let you know that if I say no, it has absolutely nothing to do with you. Like I said, you’re wonderful. And amazing. And any other synonyms for that word.”

Steve is admittedly a little disappointed, but swallows his dismay down and lets her talk.

“I think I really like you, Steve,” she continued softly. “But…”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain yourself,” he reassured her with a smile.

They look at the stars for a while, their own body heat acting like each other’s warm blankets.

“Do you want to have dinner with me Friday next week?”

“Of course,” Steve replies firmly. “Here, let me just…”

He opens Toni’s purse, not without asking for her permission first, and fumbles with one hand, the other still holding his halfway empty glass. Toni shakes her head and takes custody of his drink, smiling a little. “What are you looking for anyways? Do you need a tampon or something?”

Steve looks at her with an abashed look, colour filling his cheeks. He finally finds what he's been looking for and takes out her phone. “Hey, I’ve never seen this model before. Is it… an Android?”

“No, actually, it’s of my own designs,” she chuckles. “Unlock.”

The phone unlocks at the command. Steve stares at her in awe, before returning to the device.

“So, I thought that it would be pretty practical for us to have each other’s numbers.” He adds his number to her contacts and passes her phone back.

“Yeah, it would.” Toni stands up, followed by Steve. “My car is right there. I’m two friends a ride back, do you need one?”

“Oh, no, I’m good. Thanks for the offer though. I guess I’ll see you next Friday, huh?”

“Mhmm. We can clarify the time and place through text messages.” She approaches Steve with a flirtatious smile. “Goodnight, Steve.”

Toni tiptoes and presses a kiss on both of his cheeks, the last one deliberately too close to his mouth. She then turns around and heads back inside the mansion while texting, presumably to the people she's giving a lift to. She looks back at Steve one last time, while holding the entrance door, and they smile at each other, before she disappears out of his sight.

 

Steve is about to call Sam when he decides that it would be best not to bother him when he could just take a cab instead. He’s weirdly not tired; adrenaline and a rush of delight is still coursing through him because of the kisses. It doesn’t really bother him too much that that was all that happened, although he had to admit he wished more would’ve happened. Oh well. He’ll take whatever Toni’ll give him without complaint.

With the image of her gracefully walking and dress swaying a bit still printed on his mind with permanent ink, he pays and thanks the driver, having arrived at his house.

He undoes the first few buttons of his shirt and pushes back his sleeves. With the image of her dancing so hotly and so close to him still printed on his mind with permanent ink, he pours himself some wine. His cell phone vibrates; it’s definitely Natasha checking on him, which makes him remember that he hasn’t replied to her texts yet. A small part of him hopes it’s Toni, but his assumption was right.

From Natasha, delivered at 0:18: You know, a reply would be nice. Unless you happen to be doing something explicit. In that case, all faults are pardoned.

He types out ‘Sorry, I just got home. (Alone) And ma’am yes ma’am, I will tell you everything tomorrow’ and just as he’s about to press Send, a notification appears. A grin forms on his smile and his heart flutters: it’s from an unknown number, but he knows that it’s Toni’s.

From No Caller ID, delivered at 0:20: hey. did you get home safely?

Steve marvels momentarily at the coincidence that Toni interrupted him replying Nat’s texts twice. He sends his message to the latter before tapping on the former’s notification.

To No Caller ID, delivered at 0:20: Yes. How are you?

He creates a contact for her and hesitates between saving it as something ridiculously full of emojis and personal, and saving it just as her name, like with all of his other contacts. He chooses to stay with the tradition.

From Toni, delivered at 0:21: im good, thanks for asking  
From Toni, delivered at 0:22: so, what are you doing?  
To Toni, delivered at 0:22: I was texting a friend  
To Toni, delivered at 0:22: You might even know her. Ever heard of a Natasha Romanov?  
From Toni, delivered at 0:22: what???????????? you two know each other?????????

This definitely caught Steve’s attention. His heart starts beating loudly and he's appalled by the idea that one of his best friends and the lady he has a crush on know each other, somehow.

To Toni, delivered at 0:25: Wait, are you sure we're talking about the same person? My Nat is a redhead who’s dating a guy named Bucky Barnes. She’s an actress but debuted her career not too long ago  
From Toni, delivered at 0:30: okay. wow. yea, thats her. i can’t believe you know nat!!  
From Toni, delivered at 0:30: by the way, i just texted her because??i’m shocked??  
From Natasha, delivered at 0:30: STEVE.  
From Natasha, delivered at 0:30: The girl you were crushing on, the one Buck told me about is Toni Stark??

Steve’s mouth dropped.

To Toni, delivered at 0:33: Yes! She and I are close friends, actually  
To Toni, delivered at 0:34: Wow. Can’t believe YOU two know each other, either  
To Natasha, delivered at 0:34: It’s not a “crush”, Natasha. We’re not 12

‘Yes, it is totally a crush’, he thinks internally.

From Toni, delivered at 0:35: this is amazing! omg, what if we have other mutual friends we didn’t know about?  
To Toni, delivered at 0:37: I’d say that’s unlikely, considering we’re in rather different business areas, but you have a friend who’s a mainstream rapper, so… I guess what they say is true: nothing is impossible [shrug emoji]  
From Toni, delivered at 0:38: lol, rhodey would be insulted at being called mainstream (i agree tho)  
From Toni, delivered at 0:38: also, how do you know im friends with him??

Steve feels his face heat up. Should he reveal that he’s a bit of a creep and knew because he was stalking her from afar, a couple of hours ago?

To Toni, delivered at 0:40: Well, I saw you two talking to each other at the party. You guys seemed too familiar to just be acquaintances, so I put 2 and 2 together  
From Toni, delivered at 0:43: alright then  
From Toni, delivered at 0:43: do you know a mariah hill? she told me she used to work for actors

Mariah and him knew each other, because she used to help him with his economics. She unfortunately left for another job after less than a year, but they parted on good notes. It was never anything more than a purely professional relationship between them, anyways.

To Toni, delivered at 0:44: Not personally, but I was one of those actors she worked for  
From Toni, delivered at 0:45: nice! she works in the human resources department of stark ind.  
From Toni, delivered at 0:46: we became friends and went out together a few rare times  
To Toni, delivered at 0:46: That’s great. She seemed cool  
To Toni, delivered at 0:46: Do you know Scott Lang?  
From Toni, delivered at 0:48: no, but i think ive vaguely heard of him..  
From Toni, delivered at 0:49: is he friends with a girl called janet van dyne  
To Toni, delivered at 0:49: I’m not sure. I’ll ask him next time I see him

Seeing that, 5 minutes later, he still has no response, Steve gets up from his leather couch to go brush his teeth and prepare himself to go to bed.

Seconds after he hopped into his unmade bed, he hears a faint ‘ding’. Yawning, he goes back into his bathroom, where he left his phone.

From Natasha, delivered at 1:05: Sorry for the late response. James needed me for something.

Not wanting to know what that “something” was, Steve ignores half of her text and decides to ask about how the after party is going.

From Natasha, delivered at 1:05: And no, we weren’t having sex. I was helping him clean up the mess of the after party.

Steve was deleting what he previously was about to send, when another message comes through.

From Natasha, delivered at 1:05: Sex is best in the morning anyway. :)

Steve rolls his eyes at that comment, despite himself.

To Natasha, delivered at 1:08: That’s very nice, Natasha, but I don’t want to know about either yours or Buck’s love life  
To Natasha, delivered at 1:09: Is Sam sleeping over?  
From Natasha, delivered at 1:09: No, he left with Scott after we finished cleaning up.  
From Toni, delivered at 1:09: sorry, was in the shower

Toni in a shower. Mmh. Steve blushes at the idea of water raining down Toni’s nude body, but not out of embarrassment.

Steve closes the lights and climbs back to bed, with the brightness that his phone screen emits illuminating his face.

To Toni, delivered at 1:10: It’s alright. Hygiene is important  
From Toni, delivered at 1:11: yes it is  
From Toni, delivered at 1:11: it’s 1:11. make a wish  
To Toni, delivered at 1:11: I don’t think that’s the right time for the wishes. Isn’t that at 11:11?  
From Toni, delivered at 1:11: same thing  
From Toni, delivered at 1:12: did u make a wish  
To Toni, delivered at 1:12: No  
From Toni, delivered at 1:12: shame on you and all your ancestors  
From Toni, delivered at 1:13: ok i just remembered that we need to discuss about the place and time for our date next week

Steve knew it was a date, because duh, but seeing Toni confirm it makes his heart skip a beat. He’s grinning from ear to ear.

To Toni, delivered at 1:15: Ah, right. But I have to warn you first, if we just go around anywhere in New York, we will get swarmed by either paparazzi or fans  
From Toni, delivered at 1:15: no worries, ive already thought about that

Steve shouldn’t be surprised by Toni’s thoughtfulness, but he still is. Then again, maybe it’s mainly for herself; she is reknown too, just by a different type of public.

From Toni, delivered at 1:16: so i was going to propose going to this vegan place called copper’s branch. apparently, its super good, and i wanna try new things  
From Toni, delivered at 1:17: conveniently, i’m also business partners with their ceo, so i can get us easily a private booth in the restaurant  
To Toni, delivered at 1:17: Sure thing  
To Toni, delivered at 1:18: As for the time, unless you had that planned too, is 7:00 good?  
From Toni, delivered at 1:23: yeah, no problem. 7 it is

Steve’s level of anticipation for this date is almost unfamiliar, and last time he’s felt so giddy was probably when he dated his first celebrity. He quickly learned that social status does not erase one’s boringness.

To Toni, delivered at 1:26: Did you just call their CEO to arrange that time?  
From Toni, delivered at 1:28: nah, calling their ceo wasnt necessary. i just texted the manager of the company’s closest restaurant location. they reply fast

Steve snorted. ‘Yeah, I think I’ve got an idea of why that is.’

To Toni, delivered at 1:29: By the way, how do you and Natasha know each other?  
From Toni, delivered at 1:32: a while back, before i made pepper (u might know her as virginia potts) the stark ind.’s ceo, natasha was my personal assistant. i guess she was making the smart move of stashing up some money before trying her chance as an actress. the rates of becoming successful in the movie industries are surprisingly low, and employees at stark ind (especially with her job) were paid well

Steve wasn’t even surprised. It was typical of Natasha to think 3 steps ahead and not taking risks for nothing.

From Toni, delivered at 1:33: what about you?  
To Toni, delivered at 1:35: We worked on the same set for a thriller movie about secret agents. There was a sequel. I remember we became friends rather quickly. She was constantly trying to find me a girl to date  
From Toni, delivered at 1:36: what’s it called?

He answers her question accompanied with one of his own, asking if she’s planning on buying it. The thought of Toni watching that film delights him, seeing as he looked particularly good in it. That is according to all of his friends, at least.

From Toni, delivered at 1:38: i could use the distraction for sure, but i might not have the time :( the board has been unusually avid for my attention and time lately  
To Toni, delivered at 1:39: I guess I should stop keeping you from resting, then. You need your sleep (:  
From Toni, delivered at 1:39: why do you do your smileys like that  
From Toni, delivered at 1:39: and its alright. im a workaholic, so i usually sleep during the early morning anyways  
To Toni, delivered at 1:40: What’s wrong with this smiley? (: (:  
To Toni, delivered at 1:40: You do realize that’s a horrible habit? Responsible adults would sleep at least 8 hours a day  
From Toni, delivered at 1:41: nobody does their smiley like that, its strange  
From Toni, delivered at 1:42: who said im a responsible adult  
To Toni, delivered at 1:42: You’re gonna make me sad ):  
To Toni, delivered at 1:42: You are one of the most successful women to have ever lived, but you don’t even have a regular sleep schedule??  
From Toni, delivered at 1:43: [laughing emoji] its not my fault you text like an old man  
From Toni, delivered at 1:44: yea, honestly sometimes i dont even know how im still alive with all the bad habits i nurture

Steve shakes his head in amusement. Seems like it’s his destiny to be called an old man by every single person he knows.

To Toni, delivered at 1:44: You know, I actually am a senior citizen. Couldn’t you tell?  
To Toni, delivered at 1:45: You need to take care of yourself, Toni. We should really stop texting this late  
From Toni, delivered at 1:45: no, i couldnt tell under the mass of hotness and muscles you muster [heart eyes emoji] you could pass for a 20 years old

Well, that was direct. Steve knows that the emoji was put there ironically, but the rest was surely her purposefully flirting with him. He swallows down the redness of his cheeks and tries to think of a good reply.

To Toni, delivered at 1:47: I could say the same about you, exempt for the muscles part. I’d replace that for ‘seductiveness’ (;  
From Toni, delivered at 1:48: arent ‘seductiveness’ and ‘hotness’ technically synonyms  
To Toni, delivered at 1:49: No. The way you were dancing earlier, that specific act, was seductive (awfully so, even). But on the other hand, you don’t have to be actively doing something for me to still find you hot  
From Toni, delivered at 1:51: wow, i haven’t even known you for a whole day and i’m already learning so much  
From Toni, delivered at 1:51: can’t wait to see what more you could teach me in the future, darling

Steve is already one innuendo away from doing something regrettable, like pulling down his briefs.

To Toni, delivered at 1:52: Oh, I’m sure about that  
To Toni, delivered at 1:52: But seriously, it’s 2AM and we both need sleep, you chiefly  
From Toni, delivered at 1:55: alrighty. sweet dreams steve :)  
To Toni, delivered at 1:55: Goodnight, Toni. You too

Steve sets his phone down and rubs his eyes vigorously. He tries to think about anything else than the bold, sharp, charming, generous, fascinating woman whom he just spent the best evening of his life with. After 10 minutes of unsuccessful attempts at it, he opens his phone again and starts playing some of the songs Sam recommended him.

Steve dreams that he falls in love with Toni, but perhaps it is more of a memory.


	2. The Date

Toni nearly drops her propane torch when a remarkably loud ‘ding’ pierces through the relative quiet of her lab. She plugged her Stark phone some time ago - yesterday morning? Yesterday night? Two days back? - to the wall speakers so she could put her favourite Black Sabbath album on blast, but didn’t bother to reselect songs to play when all of Paranoid’s dynamic tracks eventually left place for silence.

She rolls out from under her beloved navy and white-striped Shelby car, her back against a car creeper. Toni reaches for her coffee mug with a tired arm and takes a long sip before getting up and grabbing her cellphone. Seeing that it’s a message from Steve, and not Pepper, she elects to not ignore it.

From fave beefcake, delivered at 7:42: Good morning, Toni  
To fave beefcake, delivered at 7:43: didnt realize it was morning already

She should listen to Pepper and find a way to put up windows. But again, would that really adjust anything about her fucked-up sleeping habits?

To fave beefcake, delivered at 7:43: i see youre up as early as usual. have you gone on your morning run yet?

They’ve been texting for nearly a week now. In fact, Toni realizes that today’s Thursday, which means that tomorrow is their dinner date.

From fave beefcake, delivered at 7:44: Of course. I do like to work out in general, but now I’m doing extra times for an upcoming role  
To fave beefcake, delivered at 7:44: thats awesome! is it another follow-up for that spies movie?

Toni watched the motion picture the evening after Steve mentioned it to her. He looked downright delicious in it, with the full beard and the rugged looks, which is the reason why Toni immediately bought its sequel afterwards. Steve sounded thrilled when Toni informed him about it during a Skype call, and was glad she had wonderfully positive feedback.

From fave beefcake, delivered at 7:44: Maybe :)  
To fave beefcake, delivered at 7:45: youre not allowed to reveal that little secret?  
From fave beefcake, delivered at 7:45: What secret?  
To fave beefcake, delivered at 7:46: ill take that as a yes for both of my questions. youre not fooling anyone, my dear

She gulps of her remaining cold coffee and climbs upstairs. An ecstatic squeal comes out of her throat when she discerns two sandwiches on the counter. Pepper must be back from her meeting in DC.

As if she heard her thoughts, Toni receives a text from Pep at that very second.

From beloved redhead <3, delivered at 7:49: I just heard a screech. You finally came up?

So she did hear Toni.

To beloved redhead <3, delivered at 7:49: your chicken sandwiches are the GREATEST of all time.  
To fave beefcake, delivered at 7:50: steve dont ignore me :(  
To fave beefcake, delivered at 7:50: are you dead? did your movie producers already find out and murdered you?  
From beloved redhead <3, delivered at 7:51: This is only the hundredth time you’ve told me, but thank you.  
To beloved redhead <3, delivered at 7:51: ive read somewhere that repetition is a literary tool used to put emphasis  
From fave beefcake, delivered at 7:54 Sorry! My friend called, he needed my help for something

Toni hears the elevator shift, followed by the sound of footsteps that she identifies to be her friend’s.

“Do I need to force you to shower and sleep, in addition to being your feeding grandma, or is that role enough?”

“Nope. Being my grandma shall be plenty.”

“Then be a good kid and wash up. Your hair looks like it was drenched in Chinese food.”

Toni gawks at her, appalled.

“That’s a distasteful way to bring out what you know is my favourite thing to eat! I know it’s a little greasy and unhealthy, but--”

“Okay, stop changing subjects and go take a shower,” Pepper chimes in, as she’s thrusting Toni into the elevator. “I will be waiting for you in your bedroom in 10 minutes if you don’t show up in my office, so don’t stall. We have a lot of business to look over and you, miss Stark, have papers to sign.”

“You know, I've always found the fact that you're the only one who always nudges me about my sanitary conditions ironic, considering that you're the one walking barefoot everywhere.”

Peppers ignores her and adds: “By the way, in case you haven’t noticed yet, it’s Thursday. Which means tomorrow is your date with that-” she gestures quotations marks with her fingers “‘super hot beefcake of a man’. You two have been talking quite regularly via phones, haven't you?”

“First off, why are you putting up the quotation marks? He is a hot piece of ass. You should’ve seen him, shame that you were busy with a convention that day.”

Peppers rolls her eyes and breathes out heavily.

“…second off, why would you think that?” Toni simpers.

“I didn’t think that, I was citing what you told me--”

“No no, I’m talking about you claiming I’ve been texting him.”

“Last time you dated someone, you texted him all the damn time,” she remarks dryly.

“Ah, don’t remind me of Strange. He almost never replied because of his job. I don't even remember how we met in the first place.”

“Rhodey had an accident, and at the hospital, when Stephen and the other doctor came to explain what was wrong--”

Tony removes her hand from the elevator doors, which she has been holding to keep them from shutting for a good while.

“--you flirted with both of them - the girl was pretty though- and--”

 

Scalding water rolling off her skin, Toni thinks about Steve. She isn't the type to stress about dates and romantic relationships, so she doesn't. Instead, she closes her eyes and replays the best moments from the party in her mind.

The truth is, at first, Toni was only planning on making Steve another one-night stand. Sure, seeing him and his friends’ ridiculous attempts at sneakiness was cute, but he was just another man after Toni’s body, wasn't he? Plus, she hadn't gotten laid since weeks, and Steve was a sight to see. So what changed Toni's mind and pushed her to ask him out?

Toni doesn't know and doesn't want to think about it at the moment. She’s already feeling too much anxiety from a whole lot of business-related preoccupations. She has a load of contracts to approve or deny and other documents to look at concerning her new plans for clean energy fuelled buildings, automobiles and whatnot.

She scruffs those thoughts away with her shower pouf and then starts to wonder who the fuck conceived that wacky name. Then she remembers that Rhodey calls them loofahs, which is so much worse, because the first time she heard somebody use that term, she googled it and came across images of some nasty cucumbers.

 

20 minutes later, she steps into her bedroom, with the presence of Pepper, just as she promised. She’s staring out into the city, but turns her attention to the half-naked Toni, her arms still crossed and a filled to the brink pocket folder in her grip.

“Don't give me that look, Pep. Anyways, when have I ever taken less than 20 minutes to shower? This shouldn't come as a surprise.”

“Alright, alright. It was just an excuse to come up and admire the view from here, though the sky is notably grey today.”

“And it was an excuse to see me in a towel.”

“You see right through me,” Pepper humours her. “But really, I wasn’t exaggerating about the paperwork. You have a mountain of bills, contracts and letters.”

“I can’t believe I still have so much to take care of even when I’m not the official head of the company,” Toni huffs, opening the shirts closet. “Should I wear my Bruce Lee t-shirt or my Duran Duran t-shirt?”

“That’s what you get for being a multi-billion businesswoman. Put on the pink and white one.”

Pepper starts moving out of the massive room and sweeps her fingers through the folder to ensure that everything crucial is there.

“Are you done yet?” she calls out two minutes later.

“Sorry, the pants are tight. I am attempting to wriggle into them but my hips won’t fit.” A groan echoes into the short hallway. “Okay, coming.” Toni exits her bedroom and follows Pepper.

 

Rhodey pats Toni’s back, accompanied by an attempt to massage her shoulders. “Do you want me to carry you to the couch?”

Toni lazily raises her head to look at Rhodey and grunts. “Can’t stop yet. I still have filing to do. Please make me another pot of coffee, baby.”

“You’ve been working and studying these since this morning. And I know that you haven’t slept for a while, Pepper told me. I’m concerned about you, Toni. I’m concerned about you.” He offers a small smile.

She pushes her face back into her folded arms and exhales slowly. Rhodey picks up a muffled ‘all right.’

 

Toni wakes up with a noisy yawn. She stays immobile for a brief time, savouring the warmth of her sheets. Her hand stretches to the bedside table and searches for her phone. She then remembers that she left it in one of the kitchens.

“Jarvis, time and weather.”

“Good morning. It’s 9:31AM, the weather in New York City is 32 degrees with scattered clouds and a little wind,” a slightly robotic voice announces, at the same time the manually-tinted windows clear up to leave place for a sunny sky. “You have 9 unread messages on your personal phone and 2 unread messages on your business-only device.”

“From who?” The mattress creaks under her stirring. She blinks her eyes open.

“On your personal device, they are all from a contact named ‘fave beefcake’, who I’ve identified to be Steven G. Rogers.” Toni snickers at how his tone was pretty much dripping with judgement when he said the words ‘fave beefcake’. “On your business-only device, one is from Happy Hogan and the other from Obadiah Stane.”

Toni chooses to stay in her mustard yellow pajama shorts and red tank top, before she steps out of her bedroom and goes looking for her two phones. “Where did I put them, Jarvis?”

Her AI didn’t need to ask what she was asking about. “They are located on the first floor kitchen and on the seventh floor office.”

 

Toni fusses when she reads what Happy sent her.

From Hogan, delivered at 6:45: Good morning. You’ve requested a ride for tonight at 18:40, but Peter Parker just called me to ask if I could give him a lift for around the same time. It’s for a presentation at the GRAMMY Museum. Do you want me to send him a taxi?

Peter is Toni’s little brother. They aren’t actually blood-related, but they became fast friends after they met. Toni was instantly protective of him, due to him getting bullied at school by not one, but multiple douchebags.

Peter was too nice to tell them off, so Toni took the matter into her own hands and hired a PI named Jessica Jones. Every one of the bullies had a dirty secret - drugs, nudes from someone who didn't consent, nudes from someone who did consent but is a minor - that got them expelled. Toni felt like she just thoroughly cleaned a bowl of toilet that had years of dirt and bacteria sticked on it.

The kid doesn't always listen to her, when all she wants is the best for him, which annoys and worries Toni, but they still care about each other. He started out his singing career fine on his own and didn't truly need Toni’s financial support, but Toni still forced him to accept her money so that he could get himself more sophisticated equipments and a better manager.

Peter can totally afford his own private chauffeur now, but he likes to text and phone Happy, so he sticks with him for emergency trips and big events.

To Hogan, delivered at 9:59: You can cancel your appointment with me. I’ll drive my Audi.  
From Hogan, delivered at 10:00: Noted.

Her mood darkens when she scans what Stane messaged her. She never liked him, and never will.

From Stane, delivered at 8:20: Hello, Toni. I’ve been contacted by a private military company a week ago about an offer that even my lawyers think is too good to be turned down. I’ve spent days dissecting the whole contract with them and they explained to me that their deal has the potential to up Stark Industries’ stock points by 2 dollars. Listen, I know how you feel about making weapons, but we’ve got to discuss this in person. Answer my calls.

It’s been months since she’s officially shut down the weapons manufacturing part of her industry, but Stane never let go and continually harasses her about how it was an ill-advised decision. His main point is always the same: they were the most profiting part of the whole business. Toni isn’t an idiot; she knows that weapons were what Stark Ind. built its ground on, but she isn’t greedy and immoral enough to continue something that led to unethical results.

To Stane, delivered at 10:09: The medical program has the potential to increase the stocks by 3 dollars.  
To Stane, delivered at 10:10: The answer will always be no, Obi. Perhaps you should switch to Hammer Industries if you want to produce weapons so bad. I promise I won’t get mad and come after you.

With that said, Toni puts backs her phone on Pepper’s office’s transparent bureau (the one with the obnoxious kinetic sculpture) and leaves.

 

From fave beefcake, delivered Thursday at 7:57: Are you there?  
From fave beefcake, delivered Thursday at 7:58: Are you ignoring me because I replied late  
From fave beefcake, delivered Thursday at 7:58: Toniii  
From fave beefcake, delivered Thursday at 8:30: If you reply right at this second, I will reveal the title of my upcoming film  
From fave beefcake, delivered Thursday at 14:03: You were right. It is a follow-up for the spies movie  
From fave beefcake, delivered Thursday at 20:49: Wanna know if my character keeps his beard?  
From fave beefcake, delivered at 0:39: Well, I’m going to sleep then  
From fave beefcake, delivered at 0:40: I already miss talking to you. Goodnight Toni  
From fave beefcake, delivered at 7:20: Morning sunshine

Toni can’t help the way her mouth curls into a giant smile. Steve is too precious for his own good.

To fave beefcake, delivered at 10:34: im so sorry!  
To fave beefcake, delivered at 10:34: i was busy getting crushed by the weight of all the paperwork i had to sort  
From fave beefcake, delivered at 10:34: Hi!  
From fave beefcake, delivered at 10:34: I’m sorry to hear that! Did you sleep?  
To fave beefcake, delivered at 10:35: yes dont worry bout me  
To fave beefcake, delivered at 10:35: and i do want to know if your character keeps his beard  
From fave beefcake, delivered at 10:37: He shaves it after he reunites with his soulmate. Remember, the cute boy with the goatee?  
From fave beefcake, delivered at 10:37: Please don't share this spoiler with anybody else  
To fave beefcake, delivered at 10:38: i KNEW they were going to reunite  
To fave beefcake, delivered at 10:38: cross my heart, ill keep my mouth shut tight  
From fave beefcake, delivered at 10:39: Thank you  
From fave beefcake, delivered at 10:39: So, what are you doing right now?  
To fave beefcake, delivered at 10:40: eating breakfast

It’s true. Toni forced herself to fry two eggs and slick a toasted slice of bread with crunchy peanut butter before even touching her phone.

From fave beefcake, delivered at 10:40: I'm very proud of you  
To fave beefcake, delivered at 10:41: im proud of me too  
To fave beefcake, delivered at 10:41: what are you doing?  
From fave beefcake, delivered at 10:44: I'm at a friend's place. He showed me the cover of some magazines you appeared on  
To fave beefcake, delivered at 10:45: so hes one of my numerous secret admirers?  
From fave beefcake, delivered at 10:45: I'm fairly certain he has a crush on you  
To fave beefcake, delivered at 10:46: you should tell him to get in line  
To fave beefcake, delivered at 10:46: and i wanna see which ones youre looking at  
To fave beefcake, delivered at 10:47: is it the vogue one?  
From fave beefcake, delivered at 10:50: Well, there’s that, and there’s one from the Cosmopolitan and Flaunt magazines

Toni honestly doesn't remember getting photographed for the brochures Steve named.

To fave beefcake, delivered at 10:50: can you send me a picture of my cosmo and flaunt covers?  
To fave beefcake, delivered at 10:50: i need to refresh my memories

Toni's more notable and most memorable photoshoots were with Forbes and Time. They both happened in the last 4 years. Toni sighs at the happy memories and fills herself a glass of water.

From fave beefcake, delivered at 10:55: Okay, hold on  
From fave beefcake, delivered at 10:56: [2 Attachments]

Toni chokes on a swig of liquid. Vivid memories from those shoots come back to her.

She was 20 and in her I-don't-care-I-do-what-I-want phase. The Cosmopolitan picture of her is raunchy enough (whoever runs that magazine really love to sexualise everything. They talk about sex in every single issue they release), but the Flaunt photo is pretty filthy.

The images Steve sent her are shaky, but it's barely distinguishable. The first one shows Toni in a black high-waisted bikini. Her eyeshadow is almost just as dark, however, her high heels are of a buzzing pink that matches the shade of her lipstick. She had her locks dyed brown in that time and its curls fell right above her shoulders. She's posing with a toothy smile, her index partly covering her mouth.

Toni remembers that was the first time she used wax to remove hair from her body. It was a painful experience, but hey, even she had to admit that her folded legs looked very nice in the picture. They also looked unnaturally shiny - photoshop, definitely.

As for the second image she received, the more she stares at it, the more she laughs. ‘I can't believe I accepted to model for them. I was really craving for attention.’ She saves it and texts Rhodey, with it attached to the message.

To honeybear!!!, delivered at 10:59: remember this phase?

On the Flaunt cover, Toni is sitting on the ground, head tilted and knees spread out. The angle is a little sideways, so you don't see further than her inner thigh. She’s wearing a loose, off-the-shoulder blue crop top that essentially hid as much as her white bra. Her white shorts are, in contrast, so tight and cut so short that you can see, what, half her butt? Her tongue’s running over her lip seductively and her eyes are looking straight at the camera. Her right hand is over her naturally flat, waist-long hair. Her left is touching the floor in beside her left thigh, to balance herself whilst she’s leaning back slightly.

From fave beefcake, delivered at 11:03: You look really beautiful in them, Toni

Toni wonders who Steve’s friend is, because those were issued 9 years ago. She doesn't regret posing half naked, of course. In fact, she isn't ashamed at all and would totally be down to do it fully in the nude if she was in the mood, but she desires to keep a more or less professional image of herself for her flourishing company and for Pepper’s sake.

To fave beefcake, delivered at 11:03: that would not be the word i’d use precisely, but thank you!  
From honeybear!!!, delivered at 11:04: You look lovely and all but. My. Eyes. Are. Burning. It's like seeing my sister naked (if I did have a sister), but worst.

 

Toni glances at her car’s electronic screen. Goddammit, she’s going to be late - marginally so, but still.

She lets her car park itself and hurries out of it, heading briskly to the restaurant.

“Bonsoir, madame. Do you have a reservation?” a woman with a distinctively pronounced English speaks to her.

Toni’s eyes widen in bewilderment; she didn't realize it’s a french restaurant. ‘Copper Branch’ doesn't sound very... français. Oh well. It’ll be an opportunity to display her excellent french, then.

“Bonsoir, oui. C’est au nom de, uh, Antonia Stark, réservé à 7 heures,” she somehow gets out with a heavy accent.

“Ohh, mademoiselle Antonia!” the woman repeats with a smile. “S’il-vous-plaît, veuillez me suivre par ici.” She leads Toni to the back of the fancy place, where an imposing velvet curtain is pulled.

“En passant, votre amoureux est déjà arrivé,” she warns her with a wink.

Her words are confirmed when Toni steps into the tastefully decorated room: Steve’s already there. He already is a handsome person, incontestably, but his degree of beauty only expands when Toni tears her eyes off his face to look down at his figure. He's dressed in a extremely tight-looking shirt, covered with a fake leather jacket. His jeans look splendid on his long legs. And Toni’s always had a weak spot for combat boots - she finds them terribly hot on men.

She beams at him, and he returns the attention. Always the gentleman, Steve gets up from his seat the second he sees his date.

“C’est fou que vous parlez tous les deux français. **_It’s crazy that you both speak french._** En tout cas, je serai votre serveuse pour ce soir. Pesez sur ce bouton,” she points a small button on the edge of the table, “quand vous serez prêts à commander ou si vous avez besoin de quelque chose. Mon nom c’est Noémie. **_Anyways, I will be your waitress this evening. Press this button if you need me. My name is Noémie._** ” She flees after they both thank her profusely in french and closes the curtain behind her.

“Hi,” Toni starts with a giggle. Ah, hormones. They can make anyone look dumb.

Steve pulls her chair out and pushes it back when Toni sits down, then does the same. He still hasn't erased the smile from his face, but Toni doubts hers faded either.

She gets peered at the whole time the two of them discuss what they want to eat. They settle on a bombay soup each, with a side of spicy buffalo wings for Steve and a poutine for Toni. They buzz the glowing button and order in french.

“So, how did you get here without getting trailed by the paparazzi?”

“My house has those really high fences with a gate, you know? Those… bothersome freelancers are always parked at that entrance, so I simply went out from my backyard where there’s literally a door conceived for me to go out without having to go through them. I can only use my motorcycle when I do that, but it’s not an issue and even provides me a headpiece in which I can hide my face.”

“Sounds fun,” Toni comments sarcastically. She plays with a strand of her iron curled hair. “I’m lucky: they can’t do that to me because I have 3 real estates and they never know which one I’m at. Sorry, if it sounds like I’m bragging.”

“It’s all right. Where do you stay the most?”

“Stark Tower, of course! It’s my baby. But I do love to sojourn in Malibu when it gets cold here.”

Noémie comes back with two glasses of lemonade, ice floating on top and a delicate slice of a lemon tucked over the round corner. Steve takes them from her tray, says ‘merci’ and puts one down in front of Toni. She looks at him with an incredulous expression that breaks into a huge grin. She opens her mouth like she’s about to say something, but then quietly seizes the drink and slurps.

“This was certainly unexpected,” she asserts, after breathing out an abrupt sigh at the sweet sour taste.

“What is?” Steve asks with a satisfied smile.

“You remembering that I don’t consume alcohol. I’m pretty sure that’s literally the first thing I told you when we met. The fact that you remember I have a fondness for lemonade is less shocking, though.”

“I pay close attention to the inclinations of people who I like and wanna please.” Steve takes a sip. Toni smirks and angles herself forward on her crossed forearms.

“Yeah? By ‘inclinations’, do you mean just about their preferences in drinks, food and the like, or do you seek to gratify them in other matters as well?”

“You could say that it depends on the person.” Steve blushes ever so slightly and Toni is overcome by the urge to squish his adorable cheeks, or something.

Two waiters barge in, but the young couple wasn’t taken by surprise; they heard their shuffling before they penetrated the room, both with one plate on top of each palm. Toni leans back and gulps down her lemonade while the attendants present the dishes.

“For you, mademoiselle, a délicieux bombay soup with a side of poutine with cremini mushroom sauce.” A brimming bowl made of porcelain ceramic gets placed in front of Toni, along with a small platter full of smoking hot fries doused with gravy.

At the same time, the other man serves Steve with the identical type of soup and a platter of 6 buffalo wings, then proceeds to describe quickly the oil in which they fried the meat in.

After they leave, Toni steals one of Steve’s wings and she moans while she’s munching it. He lays his eyes on her with an amused expression.

“Jesus Christ, since when is vegan meat so good?!”

Steve was about to dig in with the soup first, but upon Toni’s reaction, he replaces his spoon for a piece of his spicy side dish.

“Wow,” he declares after the first bite. “I thought you were deliberately exaggerating your reaction. It kinda tastes the same as real meat.” He finishes it within the second bite and adds, “Okay, I have decided to convert to veganism now.”

Toni laughs. “You say it like you just changed religions.” She takes in a mouthful of poutine and closes her eyes in glee. Her taste buds just died and flew to heaven. “You have to try this.” She shoves a forkful of her food into Steve’s mouth. He chomps on it, then licks a speck of brown sauce off the corner of his bottom lip.

“It’s good, but it doesn’t beat the wings.” To further prove his point, he eats another one of those. “And I’m pretty sure that poutine could give me diabetes. I can practically see the cholesterol leaking out of the sauce.” Toni tries to suppress a laugh at his observation.

“My motto in life is YOLO, so I don’t mind. I follow it like Christians follow the Bible.”

Steve chuckles before informing that he’s actually quite religious.

“You believe in Jesus?”

“No, I believe there’s only one God.”

“Funny, I see a divine creature right in front of me,” Toni comments with a flirtatious smile. Steve’s neck and cheeks burn up and he doesn’t reply to her remark.

 

“Toni, seriously, let me clear the bill.” Toni argues some more. “Why are you so obsessed with paying if you say it’s no big deal?”

In lack of response, she pouts, which makes Steve stare at her, exasperated. Unfortunately for Toni, Steve is as much of a headstrong person as she is, but she looks too dear, even when she’s all sulky, so he proposes to compromise. “Half-half?” Toni capitulates.

As they’re exiting the premises, she speaks up. “I know a club not far from here. Do you want to go dancing there?”

Toni knows it’s a bit hardcore for a first date, but the nightclub is extremely near and she doesn’t want for them to part just yet. As a matter of fact, she would have requested to simply stroll around the streets, if Steve wasn’t one of the most recognizable actors worldwide.

“I don’t think we can. It’d be awkward if a fan recognizes me and causes a scene.”

Her cheeks dimples and she says innocently: “I don’t think anyone there would do something like that. The entrance prices is 500$ for women and 550$ for men. It’s basically filled with arrogant snobs.”

  
Steve raises an eyebrow. “Why does it cost 50$ more for men? Are they misandrists?”

“Yes. The clubs hate men passionately,” she jokes back. “Sooo… It’s a yes?” she shows him her most charming look.

“First of all, I need to know where it’s situated exactly. ‘Cause it might be not far from here, but one time, a flock of fans and paparazzi swarmed me after I walked approximately 4 meters in the street.”

“Aw, don’t be dramatic. We’ve been standing here for roughly 5 minutes now and not a single soul bothered us. But to answer your demand,” Toni spins around and points a building on the other side of the street, “it’s right there.”

Steve scoffs. “‘Not far from here’ was an understatement. It’s literally ten seconds away. All right, let’s go.” He grabs Toni’s hand and drags her with him, approaching promptly the edifice with a sizable neon sign displayed on the front.

The bouncer gives them an once-over before clicking his tongue and snorting. Toni has a hunch that he assumes they’re just a random couple who believe they’re at any normal bar. She can’t blame him: she’s wearing a burgundy dress that looks more casual than the usual glittery and sexy type girls normally wear when they go clubbing. Sometimes, for some people, casual can be translated to cheap.

“Do you know,” he halts his words for a second, while rolling his shoulders, for effect, “how much an entrance here is?”

“Yeah. It’s rather inexpensive, for us at least.”

“It’ll be 500$ for both, then.”

Steve glances at Toni curiously when the man doesn’t request more money from him, but she replies with a shrug. They pay their due without sounding indignant or uncomfortable in the slightest. The bouncer attaches them a wristband that allows them to pass.

He glares at them arrogantly. “Enjoy your night,” he holds open the door for them.

“Byye,” Toni grins at him before stepping inside, Steve following her close behind.

It’s loud and dark when they go down the stairs. LED party lights are scattered everywhere, firing colourful lights into every corner of the room. There are a few bodyguards, each of them posted against a wall, to ensure safety. The thing that strikes Toni the most is how colossal the place is; from outside, no one would’ve been able to tell that the basement is this vast.

Steve twines his fingers around her hand. “There are more people than I thought there’d be. Wouldn’t want to get lost,” he half-yells, gazing into Toni’s eyes, a smile hanging on his lips. Toni glimpses at his soft mouth before half-yelling back “sure,” knowing fully that it’s a pretext to hold hands. However, she doesn’t mind. At all.

The music is pounding into her ears and she feels the bass humming in her bones. Everyone is dancing and jumping with their arms in the air. In the center of the club, there’s a DJ who looks rather familiar to Toni. She’s pretty sure that he’s eastern-asian, even from how far away she is from him. At first, she thought he was a woman, because of the long black hair, but then she spotted the beard and the thick moustache.

They zigzag through the crowd and sink deeper into it, even though the dance floor really is everywhere. Near the busy bar, Toni spots a number of skilled strippers gracefully spinning around poles - that she bets are coated with bacteria - with men drinking alcohol gathered around their mini-stages.

Steve turns around all of a sudden and Toni, who was previously looking at everything surrounding her, save in front of her, bumps into him with a yelp. He keeps her from pulling back by holding her body flush against his, using a hand to press on the small of her back. He starts moving to the beat.

Toni looks up at him and bites her lower lip slowly and purposefully, before spinning on her heels. She catches his arms and leads them to rest on her stomach. He complies and holds her stiffly, still whilst dancing along the song. Steve bends his head down and experimentally licks and softly sinks his teeth on Toni’s earlobe before moving on to her neck. She reacts by grinding, hard, against his crotch.

They dance and pant in close proximity non-stop, although she does force them to change positions; Toni missed looking into Steve’s eyes and had a hard time doing that with her back against his burly chest.

 

At midnight, Toni easily persuades Steve to withdraw from the discotheque before they both die of exhaustion.

“Geez, that was fantastic.”

“Was fun, wasn't it?” Toni agrees, all sweaty. Her high ponytail is a mess. She passes a hand over her head, pulling back the two front strands she left out of the ponytail on purpose. “You are one confident dancer.” She pokes his chest with a finger.

Steve mirrors the same state as her, sweaty and tousled hair. It's an gorgeous look on him and makes him seem a hundred times more edible. Toni can't help lifting her palm and putting it on the side of his face. She even dares to run her thumb over the edge of his mouth. Steve looks down at her with a strange expression. A hopeful one.

“Do you want to come home with me? I have... some cool stuff I wanna show you. I’ll send a tow truck for your bike if it's necessary.” Steve cracks a smile and glances down at his shoes shyly, as if he's been waiting for something like that for some time, before looking back up. Toni finds the whole thing endearing as fuck.

“Don't worry about the motorcycle, I'll deal with it.”

Toni presses a kiss on his chin. “Come one, I parked it this way. I'm driving.”

A loud gasp is heard, followed by a muffled scream.

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god. Are you… Oh my god.”

Steve smiles at the three strangers. “Hey guys.”

“Oh my god, can we take a picture together?”

“Can I hug you, please?”

Toni steps aside while Steve and his enthusiastic fans force him into doing their shenanigans.

“We are so sorry if we're bothering you. We LOVE all of your movies,” shrieks the stranger with the yellow sparkling top.

“Oh, thank you. I’m happy that you appreciate them.”

“Thank you SO much for your time,” exclaims the stranger with the red jumper.

“I'm sorry but can I have one last hug please?” begs the stranger with the black skirt.

Steve pulls her into a fierce hug before goodbyes are said.

The three fans whisper between themselves so loudly and excitedly that Toni can catch a few words. Suppressed screams are heard.

“Sorry.” They start walking in comfortable silence. Toni grabs and leans into Steve's arm, sniffing his good, mellow scent.

“Nah, don't apologize for your fans. It's better to have the public bothering you for pictures and cuddles than mocking you, believe me.” Toni sighs. “Okay, that was a no-brainer.” She imitates a deep voice and mocks herself: “no shit it's better to have fans than haters!”

Steve laughs and squeezes her hip a little while doing so. “What happened though? Because, I mean, maybe I'm biased, but I really don’t see how anyone could hate on an angel like you.”

Toni turns her head upwards to look into Steve's blue eyes, and her mouth curls slightly before she ducks back down.

“So I don't know if you know, but my company used to be a weapons contractor. It was basically all it was known for. Months ago, I shut it all down.”

Steve looks perplexed. “Why? Is it because you wanted to turn over a new leaf?”

“Nah, wasn't to erase the image of my father, if that's what you're asking.” She pauses. “I saw people getting killed, but not just anyone. They were people who I designed the weapons to protect, you know? They were innocent citizens and innocent soldiers.”

They stroll a moment in silence before she continues.

“Yeah, I’m doubtless that there's a high-ranking piece of shit in Stark Industries who's selling weapons from under the administration. I have my suspicions on who, but no proof.”

“That's intense. You are, as a matter of fact, more like the characters in my own movies than I am.” Steve allows himself a smile when his comment makes Toni chuckle.

A car in diagonal from them ‘beep-beeps’, then Steve notices she’s clutching her car keys. They enter the silver sports car, him in the passenger seat and her behind the wheel.

“Ooh, do you mind if I eat a gum?”

“Sure, go ahead. Pop one up for me too.”

Steve does as she asks and takes another one out of the recyclable mint package. Instead of letting it drop on her open hand, he holds it in front of her mouth, intending on feeding it directly to her. Toni shoots him an amused look, but parts her lips.

“Do you want the short drive or the long drive home?” she asks with a challenging smile while chewing actively.

They end up taking the highway, even though that delays their arrival by 20 - fun - minutes.

 

Toni nods at the single bodyguard standing in front of the locked entrance, who returns the motion. She scans a glossy card and punches a password onto a screen. A tiny light bulb on top of the door shines and the guard opens the door for them with a welcoming smile.

There are no more than a third of the amount of workers on the job during the day who are present at night, so a great deal of the lights in the public spaces are closed, even though the tower runs on self-sustainable and clean energy.

“Wow. This place is impressive. You designed it all by your own?”

“Well, you could give 12% of the credit to my used-to-be-secretary, now CEO. But yeah, I did.”

“You are truly a genius.”

“Why, thank you,” Toni replies with a sheepish smile. “Come, I’ll show you my penthouse. There's a kitchen there, if you're hungry.”

They dirige themselves towards an elevator hidden away. “Only 5 people have chips that activate this elevator. It brings us to my private properties, like my personal lab in the basements.” They get in it and Toni taps on the side of the elevator opposite to the doors. “The whole building is separated in two, but no one except the 5 people who have the chips noticed it. This is not a wall, this elevator has two sliding doors.”

Steve stares at her in astonishment. Toni chuckles and feels her face colour from the genuineness of Steve’s admiration.

As predicted, it's not the door in which they got in with that reopens when the elevator comes to a stop.

“The highest floor, that of the penthouse, is fully unreachable from all the workers, of course.”

“I have no words. You have such a brilliant mind, it's unbelievable.”

Their gaze bore into the other’s oceans for a moment. Toni loves to get lost in Steve’s.

“So, what was the thing you wanted to show me?”

“Ah, right. Almost forgot.” Toni trots to the living room. “Perhaps I was mistaken by the buzz that all the ingested lemonade caused,” she winks at him, “but you seemed to be really awed at my phone’s technologies the first time you saw it, at Charles and Erik’s party. So, I made you a personalized one.”

She whips out a box with a soothing, matte exterior. Steve takes it gently from her hands and opens it. Laying on its bottom shines the beautiful dark, almost turquoise surface of a cell phone.

“It matches your irises,” Toni explains.

Steve raises an eyebrow. “My eyes aren't greenish-blue, they're blue.”

“Well I don't know ‘bout you, but I've looked at them often enough to notice the green in them.” Toni smirks when Steve blushes.

He lifts the device, turning it around in his hands to observe it from all angles and slides his fingers over the smooth, entirely black front screen. Steve sees his name engraved on the side of the phone.

“I'm sorry. Is it too extravagant of a gift?” Toni looks at him worriedly.

“No, it's an incredible gift! It’s going to be a nice replacement for my crappy iPhone,” he jokes. Seeing Toni's unsure expression, he adds, insistent: “Seriously, I love it. And I haven't even tried to open it yet.”

To test things out, he commands the Stark phone to unlock. The screen morphs from a white blankness to a colourful home page, where several apps are already downloaded. An English automated voice startles him.

“Hello, mister Rogers. I am JARVIS, an artificial intelligence programmed into your device.”

Toni grins when Steve is startled. “You said you had an iPhone? Then you can say that JARVIS is similar to Siri, but so much better. He’s basically his own person and has the mind complexity of any average adult, although I did add a few protocols in case of unusual situations. We have conversations sometimes. Right, J?”

“Thank you for the presentation, miss Stark,” the bodiless voice comes again.

“I don't know what to say. It's going to sound repetitive at this point, but you are an effin’ genius. I mean it.” Steve holds Toni’s hips tentatively and approaches himself. “Thank you, Toni.”

Toni puts her hands on his biceps before resting them on either sides of his face. The two of them stay in that position for a minute, content with their closeness.

Toni finally leans in and buries her nose into the crook of Steve's warm neck. She drags her arms to his chest, holding onto his shoulders and inhales deeply his amazing scent. She’d trade anything for a lifetime of just smelling his skin. Toni feels him shiver when she lets out a breath.

 

Toni wakes up snuggled up in Steve’s strong arms, both of them settled on the comfortable sofa in front of her gigantic TV. She relishes in the pleasure of his natural heat; he’s like a goddamn oven. She takes notice of his leather jacket thrown on the floor in the corner of her eye, before her eyelids fall back and she drowns in darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve totally expected her to kiss him, by the way. Toni isn't cockblocking them on purpose though!
> 
> Next chapter might take a week.


	3. The Mistake

Steve senses something stir besides him. ‘Something’ turns out to be ‘someone’, who turns out to be Toni. Steve feels too drowsy to move or even gape open an eye, but still forces out a barely audible groan with an interrogatory intonation to it.

She shushes him softly and Steve feels a kiss being smooched on his chin.

When he regains consciousness, he blinks open his eyes sluggishly and sits up. Steve picks up his phone, which was previously stuck in one of the sofa’s creases. His forehead wrinkles with perplexity when the time indicates 8:40; how is it so dim if it’s this late? Steve puts down the device, deeming it unimportant to check if he has new messages.

He examines his surroundings and comes to realization that the dimness is solely due to how, somehow, the windows are tinted dark. He sighs loudly and staggers with surprise when a resounding British-- when _JARVIS_ announces the time and weather, all the while the windows’s colouration somehow clears up. Steve recomposes his posture and mentally calls himself ridiculous for having been startled by Toni’s impressive AI.

Steve eyes down at his figure and scrutinizes his outfit. He loves to wear tight shirts and all, but it’s decidedly more cozy to sleep either shirtless or with a baggy top. However, his wax men’s jeans are, as promised by Natasha, still extraordinarily comfortable. Not that wearing that beats slumbering in boxers only, of course.

He stretches his upper body thoroughly and groans a little while doing so, before asking JARVIS where did Toni go.

“Miss Stark is currently in her workshop. I can bring you to it; you have authorized access to the elevator.”

‘Huh,’ Steve thinks, ‘I thought a card or something was crucial to activate it.’

“Has she eaten yet?”

“I’m afraid not, sir.”

Steve considers himself a more-than-decent cook, so he takes the liberty to use Toni’s kitchen, planning on making her breakfast. He's never been there and when his feet hit the cold limestone floor, he lets out a small 'hum'. The room is massive, more so than he thought it'd be, but it's still a tad less large than Steve's. The dark cabinets are made of the finest wood, a beautiful contrast to the pale limestone covering not only the ground, but also the kitchen island. Similar to the ones Bucky and Nat own, the stoves are electrical ones, built into the top of the island.

He’s baffled when he pulls open the refrigerator’s door: there’s essentially nothing, besides for a couple of brown eggs, a half-consumed bag of multi-grain bread (who puts their bread in the refrigerator?), hardly any vegetables and condiments.

For a grown adult, none of these are very healthy or nourishing - except for the carrots, onion and peppers. Other than that, the kitchen seems a little bit too clean as well, even for someone who doesn’t necessarily eat 3 meals a day. It looks like it’s been barely used, really.

Steve sighs and takes out everything out of the fridge. He’ll do the best he can with what he has.

He contemplates for some time before settling on making bread omelet sandwiches, because it’s relatively simple and he has all the required ingredients at hand. He kicks off by chopping the plants, and although he has to admit he usually wouldn’t use carrots for that recipe, he believes Toni needs her vitamins D.

While prepping the food, Steve reminisces yesterday night’s events. They fell asleep, cuddling, at almost 4 in the morning, after a night of talking, watching movies and eating delivered pizza. They actually only finished two films, both horror movies. They got Toni sneering, claiming the props and special effects were ‘lame as heck'. As for Steve, he was admittedly pretty wary during most of the suspenseful and intense scenes. He kept praising the actors’ performances after each movie ended.

He smiles at the memories of Toni squealing at the best jumpscares and scooting even closer into Steve's embrace. He'd squeeze her harder under the heavy, fluffy blanket. The third movie, being a comedy, was much less thrilling, so they easily passed out, letting its dialogues and soundtracks lull them down.

His thoughts turn to the moment when they just arrived at the Tower. Steve remembers how his fingers itched to grab a pencil and a paper upon the sight of the outstandingly unique skyscraper. He wouldn't describe it as ‘beautiful’, but it still made his breath get caught up in his throat for no apparent reason.

He remembers how happy and shocked he was from being just _given_  such a technologically advanced phone, since it undoubtedly costed hundreds of hours to design and the same amount in dollars to produce. Not many people know it, but Steve is quite easily impressed by technology. 

Then, his mind drifts to when Toni was so, so close, that he actually believed for a second she was going to lean up and kiss him. He doesn’t want to admit it, because he would then get angry at himself for acting so entitled, but he was truly disheartened by Toni’s rejection. At least that’s what Steve thought it was. Why else would she so plainly avoid Steve kissing her?

It’s not their ongoing relationship status itself that is disappointing, it’s just that Steve can’t help but crave for more. Every single time he thinks about her, talks to her, sees her, his heart flutters when he does, and his nerves feel like they’re going to burn out when Toni touches him 

They haven’t even known each other for two weeks tops, but Steve would be lying if he said this isn’t the most in love he’s been in his life, which is kind of insane.

He doesn’t feel a twinge of sadness anymore when he thinks about his most recent ex-girlfriend, Sharon Carter. They knew each other long before feelings got involved and fell deeply in love after Steve rescued her from a murderous mugger who must’ve also been dement, because he wore a grey bodysuit with a horrific robot-looking yellow mask.

Steve shakes his head and returns to his task of flipping the egg around.

 

While he waits for it to cook on a low fire, - he doesn’t want the exterior of the omelet to be cooked while the middle is still raw and gooey - Steve explores the brown cabinets. He lays his hands on three juice boxes, which he judges Toni for since those overplastified things are so harmful to the environment, and jars filled with biscuits. 

There are at least ten containers with a different flavour each, which is more than extravagant, but so... _Toni_. Steve smiles and decides he’ll bring the jar with the least baked goods in it, deducing that that must be her preferred type of cookie.

After the four sandwiches are made and done, Steve glances at his phone, which shows that the time is 9:03.

He hesitates between going to the bathroom first to take shower, question of being more presentable before joining her, and going right now. He settles on the latter; the breakfast would get cold after ten minutes of waiting.

Steve enters the elevator with a plate stacked with food gripped by his left hand, a clear pot of oat biscuits squeezed between the inner forearm of the same arm and the left side of his chest. On the other hand, he’s carrying two glasses full of apple juice. Steve internally thanks his dad for giving him big hands and long fingers. 

He feels the elevator lower itself into the basement and slips out of it when the door slides open. Loud rock music is being played somewhere, though Steve can't see where, but it's loud enough that its bass makes the sandwiches shake lightly and the juice ripple.

Steve looks around. There are no rooms around him. Confused, he calls out JARVIS, questioning him where he is.

“Sir, please use the stairs that go down, they will lead you to Miss’ workshop.”

Steve proceeds to do as JARVIS said and arrives in a hallway. There's a framed image hung on the wall, and opposite to that wall is a panel made entirely of glass. He peeks into it and sees what is essentially an immense garage of some sort. There are three cars parked diagonally - one cobalt blue, one orange and one grey.

But that's not what impresses Steve; it's the various objects clattered on almost every surface in the room that does. He spots 4 computer screens, a metal table littered with tools that he doesn't even know the name of, a motorcycle, a vintage car with fiery motifs printed on it, and - are those... robots?

He's suspecting that he's only seeing half of it, because from where he's standing, he still hasn't spotted Toni. The music is louder here, too, and he can't imagine what it must sound like from inside the workplace. 

Steve sees a transparent touch screen next to the glass door, but he doesn't have knowledge of the passcode, so he doesn't pay too much attention to it.

“Uhh, JARVIS, could you ask Toni to open this door?”

The music stops abruptly. A few seconds later, Toni appears in front of him. The corners of her mouth lift when she sees him, and Steve can tell by his reflection on the panel that so did his.

He lifts his eyebrows, directing his gaze away from her and at what is in his hands, before bringing them back to Toni, so that she realizes he brought breakfast. She quickly opens the door and relieves him of the cookie jar and one of the glasses. 

“Hey, finally up?” she says, wiping her hands on a stained cloth.

“Good morning Toni. I made us breakfast.” 

Steve steps inside gingerly. Toni walks to the table and squirts out what Steve assumes is some disinfectant gel from an opaque soap bottle.

He looks around him and yup, he was right. The room is double the size of what he saw from behind the glass and even more impressive. He notices with futility that there aren't three vehicles, there are four of them: there's a silver sportscar next to the cobalt one. At the back of the room, an alleyway, likely one leading them outside (Steve can't tell because it goes in a spiral), is illuminated by what looks like flashlights buried in the ground.

Toni smacks her lips soundly, looking around. “Well, I didn't expect this, so… Do you wanna eat on one of my cars’ hood or do you wanna go up to find a decent table and place to sit?”

Steve chuckles when he sees her grimace. “I wouldn't want to dirty any of your stuff, so…”

“Right, let's go upstairs.” She takes a gulp of her drink before she starts moving.

Steve follows Toni from behind and frowns when she ignores the elevator completely. Instead, she climbs stairs that were in the opposite direction of the ones Steve used to join her. They appear shortly after in a brightly lit living room. Literal rocks that are three times the size of Steve are placed in various places. Toni has already gone to another room, but Steve lingers where he is to take in the beauty of the place. He lifts his head and admires the circular window breaching a wooden and somewhat imposing ceiling. A couch big enough to fit twelve people on it sits right in front of the wall, which is, like the one in the level below, made of glass. Steve turns around to study the artificial waterfall pouring itself into a thin and long drain. He compliments Toni on her interior design tastes and gets a dazzling smile in return.

“Do you play the piano?” he asks when he notices the three-legged instrument, situated in a room west to the slim waterfall.

“I know a couple songs, but I don't play often. Maria, my adoptive mother, liked to play, so it's more to remember her than anything else.”

“I heard about the car accident, years ago, you know.” Steve inhales. “I know it probably means nothing, but I’m sorry.”

Toni forces out a smile. “Thank you. What about you? Where are your parents?”

“My mama, Sarah, died of pneumonia. My dad died not long after from an illness, too. We were kinda poor.”

“My condolences.” She halts for an instant, taking a sip of the apple juice. "Do you have any siblings?”

“Well, you could count my best friend James Barnes as my brother. We've known each other since we were teenagers.”

“Hey, isn't that Tasha’s bub?” Toni wiggles her eyebrows, which makes Steve laugh and lightens up the atmosphere.

“Yeah, Buck’s a real ladies’ man. He really loves girls. Well, right now, he only loves one girl, but you know.”

“I bet he was. Tasha has shown me pictures of him, and I can tell you that long hair and man buns are very catchy with women.” Toni lies down on the couch. She's already drunk all of her juice, so she sets the cup on the low, oval table. She pats the cushion next to her as an invitation for Steve to mimic her. 

Steve snorts at her comment and sits down, perhaps a bit closer to Toni than necessary. “He told me something like that, about how the ladies love longer hair, the day he decided he was going to let his grow, which was…” Steve ‘whews’ out a breath, “about 7 years ago. Can you believe he's kept practically the same length of hair for all those years? But honestly, he was popular among the ladies since even before that phase. It's just that after the new hair, the amount of... admirers, tripled.”

Toni’s eyes crinkle adorably when she laughs. “Ah, that used to be me.” She puckers her lips and messes with her hair using her fingers, even though it was already perfect. “I have been involved in some weeeird situations before. You don't even want to know. Unless you do want to?” 

She takes a small bite from her sandwich and sends him an inquiring look. Steve, knowing that she’s only joking, nudges her in the shoulder. “Err, no thanks. I don't want to know if you've done a ‘ménage à trois’ before. Nope.” 

“Oh, those situations don't come even close to the weird shit I was thinking about.” She swallows and takes another bite, this time a bigger one, and chumps on it. Steve gives her an intentionally judgmental look while Toni tries visibly not to smile.

Steve's stupid brain flashes images of her being taken to bed by more than two men. His blood rushes to his face, and somewhere else. He finishes his food quietly.

Toni gulps down her mouthful and takes Steve's glass, washing down with his drink before he can stop her.

“Hey! I already gave you a glass, don't steal from me,” Steve exclaims, putting down his now empty plate, planning to tickle her. Before he can even put his hands on underarms, the liquid is gone in mere seconds. 

She wipes her mouth with a satisfied smile. “My bad. I was thirsty. Steve, your food is incontestably delicious, but bread in general is pretty dry.” 

“You drink really fast.” Steve stares at her with wide eyes. The only other person he knows who can drink that fast is Scott Lang.

Toni shrugs. “You eat really fast. I've just started my second sandwich and you've already exterminated both of yours!” 

An idea suddenly pops in his mind. Steve smirks and snatches the food from her fingers, faster than lightning. H proceeds to shove it as quickly as he can in his mouth, all the while he runs around the living room to escape Toni, who's pursuing him. 

They laugh like juvenile delinquents and Steve merely chokes on the dry bread on two instances. Finally, with the couch in between them as a barrier, Steve slowly puts the last bite in his mouth, chewing it with a triumphant expression. Toni sighs and lets herself fall bonelessly on the sofa. “I guess I deserved that, but I'm still hungry.” She pouts, which would definitely seem ridiculous and childish if it were any other adult. Steve finds it endearing when Toni does it. 

“I’ll make you spaghetti for lunch. Well, that is if you have pasta and ingredients for the sauce.”

“I have pasta in this floor’s kitchen and a pot of marinara sauce.”

“Alright, let's go.” Steve bypasses the couch and offers his two hands to lift Toni up. She grins brightly and seizes his arms. They gawk at each other for a few seconds, close enough to feel each other's breath, before Toni breaks the moment and walks toward the kitchen nonchalantly. Steve wonders for a split second if she's figured out he has feelings for her that are of a greater extent than a simple crush.

  
  


Later that day, when Steve calls a cab to the restaurant Toni and him dined in and collects his motorcycle, he skips past the route that would’ve led him to his house, taking the road to Bucky and Nat’s instead. 

He pushes the doorbell, and no more than 3 seconds later, it hurls open. Clint is there, drinking directly from the coffee pot. Again.

Clint visits Bucky and Natasha’s apartment at least one time every single week. When Steve pointed out how uncanny and disturbing that was, the three of them just raised their shoulders and dismissed it. Steve doesn’t even think he knows who knew who first: did Bucky know Clint before he knew Natasha, or did Natasha know Clint before she knew Bucky? Who introduced who to who? The lines are blurred, nobody knows for sure.

They are familiar with each other to the point that Steve occasionally suspects they’re in a polygamy relationship, but that thought is erased when he recalls that ah, right, Clint is married to Laura Barton and has three kids.

Clint is, unlike most of Bucky’s friends, a rather average person. He isn’t famous or wealthy. Bucky and Natasha, together, paid for the finest hearing aids that were obtainable, which obviously happened to be the most expensive as well. Now that Steve thinks about it, he realizes with consternation that the words ‘Stark’ were printed on both the box and the device. 

“Hey Hawkeye.” It was a nickname Natasha came up with, given how impossibly sharp Clint’s eyesight is.

“Hey Steve.”  They move out of the entrance after Steve lays his boots carefully down, on the shoe rack, while Clint continues babbling, “I actually just showed up, like five minutes ago. Buck told me he bought Nat’s favourite cake two days ago in honour of their three years anniversary, so I thought I’d help them eat it. You know, big cake and all. Sometimes I wonder if they’re going to get married soon. They should, shouldn’t they?”

He follows Clint to the granite-floored kitchen, where a plate with a yet-untouched enormous slice of chocolate cake sits on the counter top. “Want some?” Before Steve can reply to that, he adds, “By the way, they told me everything, and Nat even happens to already know her. When do _I_ get to meet your girl?” 

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose and cocks one hand on his hip. Of course they already spilled everything to Clint. “Thank you, but I’m already bloated from eating too much spaghetti. And we aren’t dating, I don’t know if we ever will, to be quite honest,” he finishes weakly.

“Never give up, man.” The taller man pats Steve’s shoulder, his lips pursed in a taut line. “Anyhow. Coffee?” He lifts up the coffee pot in clear invitation.

“I think I’ll pass. Thanks, Barton.” He smiles politely. 

“Hey Steve!” blurts out a feminine voice from behind them. Clint doesn't even flinch, but Steve whips around.

“Hey Natasha.” Steve pulls her into a hug when she's at arm's distance. “Where’s Buck?”

“Showering as of now. I was planning on joining him, but heard the door open and close.” Natasha’s lips stretch into a large smirk. “Sooo… How’s Toni? Is she still a wonderful kisser?” 

Steve immediately shoots her an aghast face. He blinks. “What do you mean, ‘still’? Did you--? What?”

She looks at him innocently. “Huh, you two haven’t kissed yet. How strange. Wait, then what did you do when you stayed over at her place?” 

“We watched movies and ate delivery food.”

Clint, who sat down on one of the two rotating bar stools to devour the sugary dessert, still clutching his coffee in one hand, spins around and squints at Steve. “I bet you were cuddling while watching some scary movie. And eating delivered pizza.” 

Steve wishes he could deduct things as accurately as Clint does, but he knows that Clint is more reading people like books than doing pure guesswork. But again, how does one gather from a person’s face the conclusion that said person ate what food while watching what movie genre?

“Wait, did she try to kiss you, but you pushed her away?,” Natasha breaks in.

At that, Steve’s heart sinks, because it was the opposite situation that took place. He mimics Clint by plopping down on a seat, feeling gloomy. Fortunately, he didn’t have to voice anything out loud, because Clint scanned him faster.

“Nay, it happened the other way around. Steve tried to kiss the woman, but got turned down.”

Natasha stares at Steve, incredulous and pensive, before snapping her fingers. “Wait. I know why she did that: it’s surely because she’s trying to go slow with you.” 

When Steve displays a dubious expression in response, she wraps her arms around Steve’s neck from his side and cooes, “Oh, don’t be heartbroken, Rogers. Trust me. If she hasn’t made the first move yet, it’s definitely likely because she wants something serious out of this. Which is good news, eh?” 

“I don’t know. You’re smart and interpret people even better than Clinton here, but you’re most likely wrong on this one.” Clint rolled his eyes when he heard Steve call him by his full name.

“Well, what’s your explanation?” she retorts, propping herself onto the surface of the shiny kitchen island, her figure towering Steve from above.

“Toni is very clearly interested in me as only a friend. I don't want to make the mistake of trying my chance to romantically be with her another time, in case she finally notices. Maybe the first two times she didn't note it, but there's no way she'll miss it a third time. She’d… She’d be scandalized and would end our friendship, which I can’t have.” 

Natasha takes the pot from Clint’s grip and guzzles the brown liquid before knocking it down on the counter with a pensive expression. “From what you told me about what you two did and talked about, during that evening you first met her, it sounded to me like she indeed actually was interested in you. Maybe you're simply biased by your own strong belief that she rejected you because she wants you as a friend. Besides, why would she even invite you to what is explicitly a date, if that was the case?” She pauses to wait for a reaction that comes as a half-shouldered shrug. “Why don't you describe me how that date went and what the two of you did afterwards? I'll analyze the situation and her signals better, being from a neutral standpoint, and also because I'm just much better than you at reading people.” 

Steve can't help but find her talking like that amusing, and his mouth twists upward. “You make it sound like you’re a psychologist soliciting their patient to recall traumatic events, or something like that.” 

Natasha smiles back. “If you say so.” She slips into a serious expression that sends chills up Steve’s spine, to get in character, and adjusts imaginary glasses, before demanding in a cool tone, “Tell me about what happened during the night you and Miss Stark hung out.”

Clint snorts and ruffles Nat’s hair. “You look more like the damn interrogator in those secret agents movies when you put on _that_  face, rather than a sweet and friendly social worker.” 

Natasha lifts her arm up and drains the lukewarm coffee, before jumping down and guiding herself to the sink. She rinses the container two, three times, reckoning it a waste of energy to wash it assiduously with soap. “Do you want to stay for the night, Steve? One of you,” she glances back and forth between the two men, “could take the couch while the other sleeps in the guestroom. I’d suggest you do the latter, Clint, because we were too lazy to change the sheets since our last visitor, and you’re gross enough to not care.”

“Shotgun, then,” Clint says while he's still chewing on food, and he grins wider when Natasha gives him the dirtiest I-am-disgusted-by-you face. 

“I don’t know, Nat," Steve sighs. "You’re sure you and Bucky are cool with two extra people?”

“James won’t mind because it’s not just anyone, it’s you two,” she smiles warmly. “And I won’t neither. I have to fly to Canada for an interview and a photoshoot tomorrow, anyways, which means I’ll be already gone early in the morning.”

“In Canada?” Steve frowns.

“Yeah, you know that country north from the U.S.? I mean, I know the educational system isn’t good here, even though it is slightly better than in Russia, but--”

“No, I mean, usually you don’t accept interviews from too far away because you say the hassle isn’t worth it. You’ve literally declined _People_  just because they wanted you in Los Angeles for the photshoot.”

“I did a quiz for _Femeia_  last year and they're literally from another continent!” 

“That’s because it's a Romanian magazine and you wanted to surprise Bucky.”

“True,” Clint chimes in. He picks up his empty dish and fork, bringing them under the faucet, where he starts cleaning them. 

Natasha huffs and doesn't further comment on the topic. "Steve, do you remember when the filming starts for you-know-what?”

“Oh, there’s another sequel? Are you going to invite me to the premiere again? Because that’d be real cool,” Clint asks, not missing a beat from what’s supposed to be a conversation about something confidential between Steve and Natasha. Before either of them can reply to Clint, they get interrupted.

“Naaat?” a distant cry calls out. “Do you know where the clean towels are?”

Steve hears Bucky coming down the stairs, oblivious to the fact that he currently has self-invited company in the apartment. Natasha winces, not wanting them to catch his boyfriend in his birthday suit, which would've let to an awkward and embarrassing situation. “James, wait in the bedroom! Clint and Steve are here!” she shouts, before excusing herself. Steve hears Bucky’s footsteps come to a stop at her words and he senses a moment of hesitance, - presumably Bucky trying to figure out why the two of them are here at the same time, ignoring that it's just a coincidence - then the sound of the stairs creaking reaches his earshot.

Natasha soon goes up as well, pursuing him, a clean but unfolded orange towel in her firm grip.

Steve gets up from his stool to serve himself a glass of water. He realizes randomly that he hasn't gone on his daily run, which normally happens early in the morning. Clint is on his Android, leaning his chin against his hand, his elbow supporting the weight. Steve decides to see if he has anything on his own device, and when he opens his Stark phone with his fingerprint, he sees three missed calls from Sam and the same amount of unread messages from Toni. Steve is still amazed at the recollection of how Toni synced his iPhone and his new phone in literally 10 seconds. All of the contacts, and even the message conversations, appeared swiftly. 

He doesn't remember right away why his phone is on silent mode, and is a little taken aback at the fact that it is. He's the type of person who hates replying late to his texts unless there’s something important that needs his immediate attention, so he never mutes his phone. After a dozens seconds of digging, a memory comes up.

What happened was rather meaningless: they were in the process of selecting a movie to watch when Sam called. It was about one in the morning, but he and Sam call each other often enough at odd hours that he didn't think it'd be any urgency, and Toni coaxed him into muting the phone, claiming he'll definitely call again and disturb them. Steve still tried to convince her Sam won't, but minutes after he did, Sam called him again. Steve recalls her triumphant smile, but thankfully she didn't bother saying ‘told you so.’

He would normally feel guilty for straight out ignoring a friend’s calls, but he got too absorbed in how Toni was squeezed, almost cramped against him, her hair’s shampoo scent flowing to his nose, that he completely forgot about it fast enough. Hopefully, Steve was right about Sam not calling him for a serious matter. He still decides to reply to Toni before Sam, because he’s old-fashioned and likes to follow the rule ‘Ladies first’.

From Toni, delivered at 16:39: dude you forgot your jacket

From Toni, delivered at 16:40: can you come pick it up later

The third message turns out to be a picture. Steve taps on it so that image expands, and there she is, wearing said jacket. It’s a selfie, and although only one third of her body is seen in it, Steve finds it impossibly sublime on her, even if it’s visibly a couple of sizes too big. He feels an inexplicable rush of possessive satisfaction at the sight, as if Toni wearing Steve’s clothing makes her his.

To Toni, delivered at 17:23: Thanks for notifying me

Steve types out something else too, but struggles between deleting it, in case it sounds creepy, and dropping it anyway. He thinks ‘screw it’ and sends it, but still adds a winky face to make it seem more like he’s just kidding.

To Toni, delivered at 17:25: But why don’t you keep it? I don’t mind, and it looks objectively way hotter on you (; 

He almost instantly regret it and doesn’t wait for a reply, too embarrassed. Instead, he goes to his contacts, finds ‘Sam Wilson’ and taps on the green button. Steve gives Clint a quick warning, telling him he'll be right back, then his feet bring him to the the living room so he can have more privacy. He stands at the back of the room and he gazes at the city beneath him from the floor-to-ceiling windows. The phone is still ringing, and while he patiently waits, he takes his time to speculate about why it's taking so long for Nat and Buck to come back down.

Finally, Sam picks up and slurs out a barely comprehensible “What?”

“Are you- are you okay?” Steve asks, worry colouring his voice. Sam sounds like he's either drunk or… drugged.

“Mmf… Yeah I'm alright.” Steve hears him shift, then yawn. “Mmh, sorry, you woke me up from a nap, actually.”

Steve let's out of a sigh. He was beginning to believe something bad had happened. A laugh echoes in his ears, before a grunt is heard: Sam does that when he stretches. “I'm sorry too, for not picking up yesterday. Why did you call?”

“Oh uh, it was nothing.”

Steve isn't convinced, so he pushes. “What’s up? Don't say it's nothing.” It's now clear that he didn't get kidnapped or anything, but there has to be a reason why he called five times in the last 24 hours. Did his Instagram get hacked? Sam is still a small actor and doesn't have many social media followers - the most he had was 50k on Twitter, at lest during the last time Steve checked - , so he never bothered to get his accounts verified. Unfortunately, that makes them easier targets to hack into.

He hears Sam grunt again, but is pretty sure it this time, it isn't because he's stretching, but Steve still waits for him to start talking.

After a moment, Sam gives in: “An, uhm, ex contacted me. Bootycall, ‘course. She left this morning.”

Steve can't believe Sam made his mind race with concern over _that_. He stares at the ceiling. “Seriously. That's what you called me five times for?”

Sam laughs on the other of the line. “What did you think it was for, though? You sounded like you thought I was in deadly danger.”

Steve hears the stairs make a grating sound. He glances in that direction and sees Bucky and Natasha coming down at last.

“It's unimportant. Do you want to go for a run later? Central Park? I'm at Buck’s right now.”

Having heard his name, Bucky spins around and automatically lifts his pinkie and index while staring directly at Steve with a blank expression. Steve mirrors the movement: it's become their way of greeting, because they both find it funny. They look dumb, but neither of them cares.

“All right, is 6 okay? We can grab a hotdog after, I wanna hear all the details about your date. You went to her place and stayed over, right?” Sam doesn't hide the suggestive tone from his voice with that last sentence.

Natasha flicks her lover’s temple teasingly to get his attention back, before they go join Clint. 

“6 is cool, and yes Sam, I did, but it didn't go the way you think it did.”

“Sure, man,” he retorts, not quite believing Steve, “You'll tell me all about it later. See you.” And with that, he disconnects the call.

Steve tugs the device into his jeans’ back pocket and goes back to the kitchen, where his friends are discussing about a topic with animosity. He interrupts them to ask what they're chatting about.

“Don't you find it frustrating how so many award shows are rigged?”, Bucky asks with an exasperated sound.

Steve is a little taken aback, because he didn't expect the subject of the conversation to be about that.

“I guess. Why are we talking about that right now?”

Bucky picks a plum from the fruit basket in the middle of the island.

“The XMA  Awards announced today afternoon the winners. Nat was nominated in five categories, as you already know, but she didn't win any of them. The winners are supposed to be selected by their quantity of votes, and there is no way in hell Nat didn't take over at least three of the five she was nominated in,” he continues angrily as he washes aggressively the plum, before biting into it harshly. 

“I'm telling you, it’s all right, love. You know I couldn't care less about that meaningless shit,” Natasha tries to soothe him, wrapping his waist with her arms and leaning the side of her head against his neck.

“I agree with Bucky. You deserved to win, it's impossible with the kind of fan base you possess that you didn't get voted the most in any of the categories.” Clint runs his face with both hands. “God, I hate those fake award shitshows.”

Steve knows there's no point in complaining about it, but he still feels a twinge of frustration for Natasha. He agrees with what Bucky and Clint say.

“Someone once told me that the XMA and every other ‘voting’ award show never actually take in account the votes. Like, at all. They pretend they do so that the nominees create buzz by asking their fans to go to their websites. It's a marketing ploy.”

“Of course we figured that out, Steve,” Bucky replies with a snort, throwing away the fruit’s core. “It’s still annoying. I mean, even knowing all that, why the fuck would the producers choose Madelyne Pryor over Nat for Best Fem--”

“Come on, boys, let it go. I really don’t give a shit about them. It’s not like I ever promoted them, so whatever.”

Bucky grumbles but shuts up, pulling Natasha fiercely against his chest and kissing her on the head. 

“So, Stevie, you’re sleeping here tonight?” Bucky inquires with a forced smile, clearly changing the subject.

“I guess so.” Steve raises his hands to his hips and his mouth turns upwards. “I wasn’t planning on doing that, though, so I’ll return to my house first to pick up a few items. I need a change of clothes anyway. Oh, and I won’t be back before 7, Sam and I are going out for a hotdog.” 

“Hey, I haven’t heard from him for a while. Tell him that if he wants to, he’s more than welcome to join us for supper.” Clint chimes in, acting like he’s one of this place’s owners.

“I’ll be sure to ask.” Steve pats Clint’s shoulder, then pulls Bucky into a brief one-armed hug and does the same for Natasha. “We’re playing Mario Kart, I hope?” It’s their favourite activity to do when the four of them are together, because they are all individually so competitive that they scream at each other throughout the whole time. Said like that, it sounds… intense, but in reality, it’s probably one of the things Steve like to do the most in the world. It’s like they’re in a real situation of life-or-death, and nothing is more gratifying than laughing maniacally while someone’s pleading mercy for dear life, before pressing the button that sends out the blue shell.

“No, we’ll be reading books,” Bucky answers sarcastically with a melodramatic roll of his eyes. 

Steve snorts and gets out of the residence when they are done exchanging goodbyes. He walks to the elevator and presses the button with an upside down arrow. He distractedly thinks about Toni, wondering how much fun it’d be to play games like that with, since she’s even more competitive than Steve himself. The shaft finally reaches the 26th floor and Steve is glad there’s nobody in it already. He finds being in a closed space with a stranger to be one of the most awkward things there is. 

While he’s waiting, he slips his phone out to check the time. He doesn’t notice what hour it is, though, because Toni replied; his attention is immediately focused on the text message and the image attached to it.

From Toni, delivered at 17:28: come back to pick it up and i might show you how much hotter i can look without the jacket ;)

The image is of her wearing Steve’s clothing, but this time it looks like she has nothing underneath it. She has one side of the jacket slipped out, exposing her shoulder. The hand that’s not holding her camera is gripping the front of the jacket, baring her collarbone and a few centimeters below it. She’s grinning coquettishly, with the same dark red lip paint she had when Steve was at the Tower. 

Steve’s nonplussed, having absolutely no clue as to why Toni is so suddenly acting like this, and is almost as freaked out as he’s aroused. He can feel his face heat up from bashfulness, too, and his heart is thrumming loudly. The elevator dings and an old man in a tuxedo enters it, not waiting for the still-there occupant to get out first. Steve clears his throat to try to clear his mind and steps out. He doesn’t know how to react, what to reply, but he doesn’t want to leave it on read: Toni might take his lack of an answer as him being repulsed by her. Well, he knows she wouldn’t think that, but he doesn’t want to risk it.

He stays near the elevator while thinking about what he should say back, his fingers frozen hovering above the screen and his eyes frozen on the racy selfie.

To Toni, delivered at 17:45: I’ll be at the tower in 30 min 

Steve promptly regrets sending his text, again, because it’s, without doubt, the lamest thing anyone could’ve ever replied to what Toni sent him. He pushes down the feeling of wanting to slap his face and strolls out of the building, praying he won’t get stopped by fans, or worse, the pap.

God seems to have clemency on him, because none of those happen. Steve straddles his motorcycle after putting on the black helmet and flees easily to his house.

He takes a quick shower, his mind still puzzled. Steve tries to think of a reason why she would so randomly act like that, and comes up with a blank page. 

10 minutes later, Steve’s already climbing back on his bike. The more time passes, the more his anticipation rises up, but so does his confusion, considering how unbendingly Steve was certain Toni wasn’t interested in him like... that. He hasn’t stopped questioning himself what the cause of her strange change of mind could be. Well, he isn’t about to complain, either.

Steve luckily finds a parking space, near the Tower, and nudges the kickstand out with his foot. He’s at lost, ignoring what he’s supposed to do next. He doesn’t even know where he’s supposed to join her inside the massive skyscraper, not that he has either the password to enter it to begin with, or the crucial chip for the private elevator. Steve whips out his blue-green phone, hoping Toni sent him some kind of instructions. His heart stops.

 

From Toni, delivered at 17:46: wait you’re really going to come?

From Toni, delivered at 17:46: i was half-joking about my last message

 

His eyes nearly start to well up with humiliation. Of course he misinterpreted, he should’ve known Toni was just being Toni, constantly flirting and throwing out mildly sexual jokes. Steve lets out a noise that almost sounds like a sob. At least, no one should recognize him: he’s still wearing the helmet, only he keeps the face shield up, because he badly needs to breathe, gasp in and out fresh air, or he thinks he’ll be sick. Steve stays at his spot for who knows how long, the feeling like his heart’s going to shatter not gone yet. He can’t leave right now, not yet, not when he feels like he’s going to fall on the ground if he moves too much.

Steve reaches down for his phone, which he dropped by accident on the asphalt when his hands started trembling uncontrollably. Maybe he’s having an anxiety attack, he’s had a few of those before, at big-time events where the whole world might as well have been watching him, thanks to the hundreds of cameras flashing everywhere. He inhales and exhales slowly, to calm himself, before opening the device. He’s planning on calling Bucky, the only person he can think of at the moment, but an unread message catches his eye.

 

From Toni, delivered 17:47: i’ll be right down in 30, then

 

Steve must’ve missed that, too busy having a panic attack. But it doesn’t change anything, not anymore. Steve feels awfully vulnerable and ashamed right now, so he doesn’t balk, already pulling the face shield back. Besides, if Toni was really planning on coming down in 30 minutes, she’d be late: it’s already 18:25. 

As if on cue, Steve hears Toni shout, “Steve! There you are!”

She’s walking toward him with a grin, so sure that the man in the white t-shirt riding a motorbike is none other than Steve, despite his face not even being visible. He swallows and judges it best to leave his helmet on for the moment, in case Toni suddenly thinks, 'Oh, maybe I've mistaken that person for Steve' and leaves. That doesn't happen, of course.

“I was lingering for 15 minutes in the entryway of the Tower. You should’ve told me you wanted me to join you outside. Unless you just got here?”

Steve doesn’t rely on his voice to not be shaky, but he can’t let her know how upset he is, so he croaks out, “Sorry. I needed… some fresh air.” His voice sounded completely normal, and he sighs without making it too obvious, relieved.

“Are you okay? Why are you still wearing your helmet?” She’s right next to him now.

In lieu of a reply, Steve simply takes it off, showing an bright but artificial smile. Toni mirrors it, and raises her hand towards Steve’s head, rustling his hair.

“Your hair looks so messy after wearing that. I kinda left your jacket where it was, in the penthouse, by the way.”

Steve forces himself not to look as disappointed as he feels, taking into account that he really wished she brought with her what he came here for, so he could just disappear as fast as possible.

“Okay. Let’s go collect it then,” he says lightly. He hops down from his two-wheeled vehicle, setting the helmet in its undersized trunk, then follows Toni to the building. While they’re getting to the top floor, Toni babbles about everything and nothing, frivolous chitchat that Steve responds to with ‘Mmhmm’s. She’s wearing the same white spaghetti strap tank top and skinny jeans she had on when they were hanging out hours prior to now.

They move out and Toni leads them straight to the living room, where, on the soft wood brown couch, lies Steve’s precious jacket. He makes a beeline for the garment and drapes his back and his shoulders with it, tugging the collar twice for good measure. If he’s honest, he’d say he still feels like crap.

“Do you wanna stay for a little while? I can make some coffee,” Toni asks, staring at Steve like she can sense something’s off.

Steve looks at the hefty roman numeral clock hung on the wall behind the sofa. He becomes suddenly aware that Sam has been waiting for him for half an hour.

“I-- I have to go. Sam’s been waiting for me for a while.”

But he doesn’t move, disloyal to his words, because Toni’s gaze isn’t leaving him. She approaches him almost shyly and says, “I’m sorry if what I texted you earlier left you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to. I’m just kind of an impulsive and weird person,” she tries with a smile.

“Do you like me?” Steve blurts out. He’s too emotionally drained to care if it’s too direct. He wants to know without a shadow of a doubt how Toni views him. 

Toni doesn’t pretend to not know what he’s talking about, doesn’t trouble herself with a play dumb act. Instead, she surprises Steve when she bursts out with, “Sorry if it’s not mutual, but yes I do.”

Steve’s brain doesn’t register the information. “What?”

Toni is now noticeably uncomfortable and grips either side of her waist with a opposite arm, hugging her stomach, holding herself. “I want us to be in a relationship, you dummy. Why do you think the date was for?” she declares in a soft voice.

Steve’s brain still doesn’t accept what he just heard and he stutters incoherently. He draws in a breath leisurely and asks, in an equally delicate tone, “Then why did you reject me kissing you?”

At that, Toni raises an eyebrow and lets go of her arms, before tilting her head. “What do you mean? You never tried to kiss me.”

Steve’s mind clicks into place and he realizes he’s utterly misconceived every one of Toni’s ‘refusals’. He snorts faintly at himself for being such an idiot, and, taken by a boost of confidence at his newly found knowledge, he steps into Toni’s space, eyeing down at her azure irises through her mascara coated eyelashes. “I did, two times. I thought you…” He pauses, a blush creeping up his neck. “I thought you were rejecting me. Turns out you just somehow didn’t realize I wanted to make out?”

Toni smirks. “Maybe I was distracted by some other stuff.” She grazes Steve’s arm with the tip of her fingers, running them slowly from his shoulder to his elbow. Steve feels his skin shiver at the contact and glances at her hand, but his eyes soon flicker back to her face. His hands come up to her shoulder blades, before he slides them down and holds them on Toni’s hips, rubbing his thumbs in small circles.

Steve breaks first and leans down, pressing his lips against Toni’s. Her hands fly up to his face in an instant, holding his jaw firmly. He groans faintly, because finally, _finally_  he’s satisfying the alluring craving and want he had bottled inside him for a whole week. Toni bites his lower lip gently, then passes her tongue over it.

They kiss for what feels like an eternity, but it's an eternity Steve wouldn't mind living through.

Toni separates herself from Steve far enough so that they can see each other's face with having to strain to not cross eyes. Her mouth twitches before she lets out a laugh.

“I have lipstick everywhere around my mouth, don't I?”

“Meh, who gives a fuck. I know I'm not in a much better state.” She licks her top lip as if it would change anything, but Steve knows she's in reality trying to tease him and test his self-control. He watches her wet her bottom lip with a slow flick of tongue, her gaze steadily watching him throughout the whole process, before he gives up and catches her mouth with his own. He sucks gently on her tongue, relishing in the feeling of pleasure rushing up his spine when she moans.

His hands leave her waist and Steve rests them on Toni's arms instead, warming up the cold skin by rubbing and massaging them with his hands. Toni's eyes are closed, in opposite to her mouth, and she makes soft noises.

“It feels this nice?” Steve asks, an amused smile slipping out.

“I'm cold and your hands are warm. Warm, and big, and they feel so good.” Toni’s eyes open half-mast, but Steve can nonetheless see how much her pupils are dilated.

Steve shrugs off his jacket and covers the most he can manage of Toni’s upper body. He rests his chin on her head but keeps making his attempts at warming her with his arms. Toni shoves her face onto Steve's chest, her forehead pressed against the juncture of his collarbone and his shoulder.

“Oh fuck, you're so hot. In every sense of the word.” Steve laughs, his chest shaking slightly, but he's cut off by a flinch when Toni’s hands fly up his back, under his shirt, without a warning.

“So. Are you staying?” Toni leans back but her hands are gripping his t-shirt lightly.

Crap. Sam. “Uhh…” Steve casts a furtive glance at the clock, which indicates 18:59. ‘Aw, scrap that. He should be already gone, anyways.’ Steve then feels a twinge of anxiety, worried he's being a bad friend. “I’m fine, I guess?”

“Didn't you have something with Sam?” Toni asks with a smirk.

“I did, but I think it would be too late, even if I do go right now." 

“Ah, sucks.” She comes up on her tiptoes, tugging on the front of Steve's shirt, and they start kissing again, but this time it's more passionate. It makes Steve feel feverish and almost like he's high.

Without Steve quite realizing it right away, Toni leads them to the couch. When Steve's calves hit the bottom of the sofa, Toni backs away long enough to push Steve’s chest, who falls on his back. He leans up, using his elbows to do so, while Toni’s bending down to straddle his lap. They pick up where they left, their mouth on each other's already. Steve gasps and pleasure runs up his spine when Toni uses her thigh to grind against Steve's erection.

She straightens herself up again, her legs in a W from Steve’s viewpoint. His breath hitches when Toni arms cross, each hand grasping a side of her tank top. Steve's eyes are glued on her, but his hands slide up, holding her hips. She lifts her arms and throws her top somewhere on the ground. Steve stares at her body, feeling a rush of arousal and love. His mouth starts feeling pasty and his tongue, heavy. God, she's gorgeous.

Toni, still poised even with his unwavering attention on her, winks. “Like what you see?”

Steve scoffs and abruptly straightens himself up, their faces now close enough to kiss. He takes off his t-shirt with one hand and throws it away. Before Toni can even react, he attacks her neck, biting harshly and licking several spots. Toni shivers and tilts her head so he can have better exposure. Steve's hands are low, holding her ass, and he lowers both of them carefully, him on top now.


	4. The Double-Edged Sword

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A longer chapter to make up for the huge delay. Enjoy!

Steve kisses Toni fervently, his hands tightening their grip on her ass. She nips at his lips, the sting sending pleasure through his spine, as her fingers roam around Steve's back, trailing down from his shoulder blades to his waistband. He leans back abruptly, chuckling when she whines at the loss of contact, before pressing a quick kiss on Toni's lips to make up for it. Steve’s knees are pressed against Toni's thighs, almost in a straddling position, her skin cool on his flesh.

Toni looks sublime, sprawled naked under Steve. She's staring stubbornly back at Steve, but he can see her chest heaving at a quicker rhythm than usual, meaning he's not the only one breathless. Steve keeps his gaze for a few more seconds, almost wishing he had the materials to sketch her on paper right now, before he bends down and kisses her breasts, twirling his tongue around her nipples.

He looks up through his eyelashes at Toni's face when he hears her gasp. He draws back to her lips, his crave for their contact impossible to tame or gratify.

She lifts her upper body up as best as she can, supporting herself with her elbows on the seat cushion, her mouth meeting Steve’s. Toni’s hands snake up around his neck, an attempt at holding him there, but Steve pushes in and a moment later, a soft ‘thump’ is heard when her head hits the couch.

Steve feels a sudden heft, making him budge momentarily. Toni had swung her legs on his lower back, and with an effective thrust, they succeed in tugging his hips down, causing his cock to grind against her body. Steve breathes out a moan into Toni’s mouth, bliss dashing in from the sensation. They kiss until, when he pulls back for air, Steve sees that Toni’s lips turned swollen, although Steve knows he’s reflecting her state of messiness.

“I forgot to ask, do you have any condoms on you?” Toni asks, her hand playing with Steve’s locks, tugging and dishevelling his hair furthermore.

“Uh…” He recalls about the few condoms he stuffed into his jacket around two months ago just in case, but he never ended up needing them. Until now, that is. “Yeah! I'll be right back.”

Steve kisses her forehead and nose soundly, prompting Toni to crack an amused smile. He gets up from the couch, picks up his leather jacket, takes out a square and crawls expeditiously back on top of Toni. They still have to remove their pants, so Steve sets it cautiously on the ground, right besides the couch.

Steve dives back to that devious mouth of hers, kissing open-mouthed. His hands fumble with Toni's button and zipper, his grip already on the waistband and ready to peel her pale jeans off her body. Toni's panting harshly, eyelids fallen to half-mast and mouth parted. Steve yanks the pants down to her ankles, without touching her underwear just yet, letting Toni wriggle out of them, before Steve takes care of getting them out of the way.

Toni’s hands slide up to his black belt, undoing the buckled and his fly in a record time. Her fingers brush over Steve's erection, making him gasp, which earns him a cocky grin from Toni. He pulls his pants and boxers down in one swift movement, his cock exposed and fully hard on his stomach. Steve isn't, say, a prude, but he figures that his face must be flushed by the look Toni gives him. Steve doesn't give her the time to do anything about it, because he launches back into kissing her breasts tantalizingly slowly, careful with the amount of pressure and tongue. Toni clutches his hair forcefully, probably without realizing, but he doesn't mind. He likes it rough.

Steve moves down eventually, leaving a trail of saliva on her belly that is interrupted on a few occasions with hickeys, when he finally gets to her underwear. It's lacy and golden, a minimal contrast to her light skin. Steve is almost taken aback at how well Toni pulls off that colour; gold - and red - fits her so flawlessly, which is a little strange, because seriously. How does someone make yellow panties look hot?

Steve lifts her right leg by the juncture of her thigh and calf, and hooks it behind his neck. He presses light kisses on her inner thigh, before deciding to leave bite marks as well. Faint noises come out of Toni's throat, and he notices her knuckles have whitened, gripping the edges of the sofa. Steve shifts marginally, as his hand comes up to stroke her through her underwear - he's curious to feel how wet she is. He pushes two digits against her pussy, moving them slowly in circles, and Steve is pleased when he hears Toni inhale sharply and moan. Steve’s cock twitches at the slick sensation on his fingers, the delicious noises Toni is making doing nothing to moderate his situation.

She attempts at pushing his head down with the leg hooked around his neck. Steve does comply, but swiftly gets rid of the layer of clothing beforehand, diving in right after. He takes a long, experimental lick, his tongue flat, then suckles her clit. Steve goes on with his ministrations for quite some time, switching between licking and sucking, revelled when Toni calls out his name between pants, before he pushes his tongue in her. Toni's back arches, while she lets out a loud moan. Steve feels lightheaded, her sounds of pleasure making his cock leak.

He draws back when he believes Toni’s about to orgasm, not wanting for this to come to an end yet. “Sorry,” Steve apologizes with a little smirk as he moves his body up again. Toni doesn't answer, just locks her short, blunt nails on his shoulders and her calves on his back, lowering his face toward hers for a passionate kiss, before Steve pushes back yet again.

Steve rubs both his thumbs on Toni’s nipples, panting above Toni, mere centimetres separating their faces. They gaze into each other's eyes, like they always seem to do. Steve asks, his voice low, “Do you want to ride me or do you want me to fuck you into the couch?”

Toni, still holding his stare, reaches for the condom on the floor. She holds it in front of Steve's face, her elbow pushed against the couch. “I'll top next time,” she says with a thick voice. Steve catches a glimpse of a smile as he clutches the small packet. He falters for a heartbeat's worth of time, trying to convince himself that it'd be sexy to rip it off with his teeth, but the risk of unintentionally tearing the protection isn't worth it. Steve leans back on his shins, careful to not put all of his weight on Toni, and pinches the tip of the condom, rolling it down his shaft in one swift movement. No more than a second later, he's already back in Toni’s mouth, using his teeth to tug on her lower lip, then sliding his tongue in.

Toni’s arms are slung back on his back, her fingers digging into his flesh. Steve is supported himself on a palm, the other one around his erection, placing himself on Toni’s entrance. He rubs the head up and down from her clit to her hole, just to tease her. Toni throws her head back and chokes out a cry. Steve feels a sharp but enjoyable ache on his back, a burn that moves onto his biceps then shoulders as well, where Toni has definitely been leaving thin, red marks with her nails.

 

 

 

Three rounds later, Steve steps into the kitchen with the intention of making them something to eat. It’s dark, the sun having already settled for a while now. He flicks on a switch, turning on a multitude of baffle lights.

He's in his birthday suit, and every wall separating the sky from inside the Tower is made of windows, but Steve doubts the glass isn't tinted to look reflective from the outside. Besides, unless you're a bird, no one who'd want to peek in could reach this height. Curiosity related to the subject rises a question in Steve.

“Hey, how high up is your penthouse?” he calls out at Toni, opening a cabinet devoid of food before being reminded by himself that Toni has practically nothing in this kitchen.

“We are 93 storeys above the ground.” Steve hears her soft footsteps before he catches her in his sight. He twists his neck at her direction, a grin lifting the corners of his mouth when he sees that Toni took the liberty to put on his slightly wrinkled t-shirt, her lacy underwear almost entirely buried under. She comes up from behind him and curls her arms around his stomach, dragging Steve into an embrace. He can feel her body’s warmth seeping onto his back, its curves pressing against him. He sighs, enjoying Toni’s mere presence more than he would've enjoyed a day at Disney World, wraps his fingers around hers before informing Toni that if they want to eat food, they'll need to move to a kitchen that is actually filled with groceries.

“Sure you don't want to just order takeout?” Steve shakes his head and Toni shifts, keeping her grasp on one of Steve's hands, guiding him back to the living room by yanking his fist. Toni is facing him now, having just bent down to pick up Steve's discarded clothing that is still lying on the carpet. He presses a chaste kiss on her lips and whispers “thanks” when she hands him his underwear and pants.

“JARVIS, is anyone in my private apartments at the moment, other than us two?” Toni asks, without moving an inch, watching Steve slide on his underwear, then his dark khakis, finishing up with the canvas belt.

“No, Miss. Ms. Potts is in the building, but she's been in a meeting with Mr. Stane for about an hour,” the voice resonates around them, its intonation changing at the words ‘Mr. Stane’, almost into a mocking tone. Steve’s certain that, with time and habit, he could effectively forget JARVIS is a robot, not an actual human, due to how JARVIS is able to project emotions into his voice.

Toni rolls her eyes and snorts at the mention of ‘Mr. Stane’, but has nothing to reply back to JARVIS. Clearly, that guy doesn't have a good reputation around here.

She steps forward, Steve taking it as an invitation to wrap her body with his own. His arms push gently around her back until there's not a hair's width of space between them. Steve rests his chin on top of Toni's head and he hums at the dazzling scent of her hair. Her cool hands are immobile on his naked chest, and every breath she takes are felt on the crook of his neck.

“You gonna gimme my shirt back?” Steve mumbles, his fingers stroking through Toni’s straight, black strands.

Toni makes a negative sound in the back of her throat, the vibration buzzing onto Steve's skin. “I like to see you shirtless.” She tilts her head to flash a smirk at him, who huffs before lowering the angle of his head to catch her lips. Toni licks into Steve's mouth and Steve responds by sucking her tongue softly.

They kiss, slow and intense, for a few minutes, before both of their stomachs coincidentally growl at the same moment. They laugh, pulling back, and start walking to the elevator, Steve's hand holding her hip. He's basically gripping her buttcheek, but hey, you can't blame him for his large hands.

They enter the lift, and as soon as Toni has pushed one of the buttons, they start making out again. Steve is ecstatic out and still aghast at the fact that Toni slept with him, the realization hitting him just now, stealing his breath away.  Steve pulls back, desiring to gawk at that beautiful face of hers. Toni's mascara is in a perfect state, complimenting her long and thick lashes. Opposite to that is her lipstick, which is still somewhat not as smudged as one would expect it to be after all of their exchanging saliva sessions. Steve bends down to press multiple kisses on her forehead, temple, nose, cheekbones. Toni does a noise that sounds suspiciously like a giggle, before the lift stops in its tracks, smoothly and silently. The metal doors slide open, letting them out into a thin hallway with beige walls.

Steve follows Toni to the kitchen, - the same one in which he cooked up that humongous amount of pasta only hours ago - guilty of stealing a couple of glances at Toni's firm ass. He contemplates about what he should prepare for them, reminiscing what perishables and other groceries he saw Toni has stored in her fridge when he used it earlier. Baby potatoes, basmati rice, beans in cans, corn in cans, peas in cans, scallion, red onions… He could make some kind of fried rice recipe and roast the potatoes as a side dish. For dessert, they could go back up to the penthouse and grab a couple of cookies. Or, Steve thinks with a jolt of excitement at the idea, they could bake something together. Perhaps brownies, though he does know a delicious and simple cupcake recipe.

“I’ll make some Indian fried rice. Is that okay with you?” Steve asks as he wraps his arms around Toni’s waist and pulls her into a hug, just because he can.

“Mhmm, sure, sounds good,” she replies, standing on her tiptoes to kiss the corner of Steve’s mouth.

“As for dessert…” a smile creeps up slowly on his face, “I thought it’d be a good idea to bake some cupcakes together. Or brownies. Depending on your preference, of course. And if you want to.”

Toni lowers her head for a fraction of a moment, hiding her eyes and expression from Steve. When she lifts it back up, a bright smile is placed there. “You're adorable. Alright, but know that I’m shit at doing anything in the kitchen that doesn't include using either the toaster or the microwave.”

Steve presses a solid kiss on her forehead and squeezes her in his arms, which rips a shriek out of her. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you well. You’ll come out as a better cook slash baker than Gordon Ramsay.”

The tiles are cold against his bare feet as he moves around the kitchen, opening the cabinets and the refrigerator to collect the necessary tools and veggies, a light conversation filled keeping any awkward silences at bay. Toni sits down on the polished top of the round, ebony wood table in the remote corner of the room. She tosses the vase placed on it away so that it doesn’t get in the way when she leans back on her hands, crossing her legs at the ankles and dangling them in the air. Steve tries to concentrate on what she’s saying while he chops an onion - he intends on only using half of it, reluctant on putting too much emphasis on its sharp and acidic flavour - but it’s difficult, because frankly, he has no idea what she’s talking about: she’s using a lot of engineering terminology, but Steve believes she’s planning on planting her A.I. inside an android she’ll fabricate herself.

The potatoes are sent inside the oven by the time Toni finishes explaining the benefices from the creation of her droid.

“So. What do you think I should name it?”

“Well, you said you were going to put JARVIS in it, right? Why not just continue calling it that?” Steve suggests, wiping his hands on his pants after Steve rinses them. He’s been shirtless for some time now, and he isn’t really cold, but he’s starting to feel a tad ridiculous and self-conscious. Toni sure doesn’t seem to mind, though, so he brushes it off.

“Yeah, they’ll both sound the same and all, but JARVIS won't stay the way he is right now when his program is synced into the hard drive of that android. At least, not according to my researches. He’ll be, in theory, a whole new person.” Toni, who was stirring the vegetables on low fire as they waited for the rice to cook, puts down the plastic spatula.

“Huh. Well then, what names do you propose?” Steve checks the oven one last time to make sure it’s set on the right temperature and timer. The temperature is mistakenly off by ten degrees, and he fixes it with a few pushes on the buttons of the control panel.

Toni is quiet for a few seconds, before she says, “I think ‘Friday’ would be nice, but I feel as if it wouldn’t fit JARVIS’ voice. It’s somehow a more feminine name?” Steve hums in agreement as he lifts the cover of the pot where the rice is resting. It's almost ready. “There’s also ‘Ultron’, which honestly sounds kind of evil, and finally, ‘Vision’.”

“'Vision' is nice. It sounds... futuristic, which suits you.” Steve pulls Toni into their gazillionth hug of the day, smiling down at her.

“Yup, I’m a futurist. Been told that by a lot of people.” She uses an index to poke Steve’s nose, grinning, before pressing a noisy smooch on the same spot. Steve jabs a finger on Toni’s side and she folds in half instantly, a laugh coming out of both of them.

Toni inhales loudly, closing her eyes in a way that makes her look fatally adorable, and envelopes Steve’s neck with her palms. “Smells good. But I tasted a bean earlier, you sure you sprinkled enough spices and salt?”

“I seasoned it plenty! You’re eating way too unhealthily if you’re used to a bigger quantity of salt on your food.” Steve tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and leans in for a chaste kiss. Toni turns the kiss into something rather filthy after sheer seconds, but Steve has to take care of the rice, fearing it'll become overcooked and rocklike.

 

 

 

“That was the best homemade meal I’ve had in forever. You’re the best,” Toni praises Steve, as they clear out the dishes.

“I’m happy you enjoyed it. Here, let me wash this.” Steve takes the plate from her grip and scrubs, bathing it in water and foam under the faucet. There are other dirty bowls, glasses and platters stacked on top of each other in the sink. “Actually, I’ll just wash all the dishes. You have a mountain here.”

“Oh, don’t bother, seriously. I was planning on doing it tomorrow anyway,” Toni says with a roll of her shoulders.

“I don’t mind.” Steve starts cleaning the bowl on top of a pile to establish that the issue is settled.

“Knock yourself out then. I’ll be right back.” Toni straightens up from her position of leaning against the counter and starts walking out, but she adds, without turning around, “Also, thanks!”

Steve chokes out a laugh when he catches her muttering ‘god that man is perfect’, right before she’s out of the kitchen.

Five minutes later, when Steve is about done rinsing everything, he hears footsteps drawing closer to the room. Before he can spin around, Toni throws something at his head -- a blanket?

“I love that bod of yours,” she says as she steps closer, “but I think you’d agree with me that you should put a shirt on at this point.”

Steve chuckles and tugs it on, glad that to be more covered up after hours of being half naked. He turns to Toni and his breath hitches when he sees her even less dressed than earlier. She’s still in her underwear for the bottom part, but apparently figured it would be a good idea to only put on a jacket for her upper body - Steve’s jacket, the one that looks categorically provocative on Toni - and she almost looks like how she did in the selfie she sent earlier, only this time the garment is unbuttoned and it’s just overall better, because it’s not a picture.

Steve abandons his work and dries in hands with the cotton towel he found. Toni’s in front of him now, her hands pushing against his abdomen, where the V line would be. She grazes over his dick with a slow gesture.

“Round four?” Steve asks huskily, arousal coming off in a wave when Toni’s eyes look up through her lashes, without shifting her head.

“My, my, you're a beast. You _just_  put on your shirt, though.” She smirks as Steve slides his hands from her waist down to her hips, then even lower, cupping her ass.

"That issue can be remedied in the blink of an eye."

Toni adds, with a frown and an innocent expression, “Wait, but didn’t you want to make cupcakes?”

Steve doesn’t get fooled by her faux worry. “We will do that later. Right now, I'd rather do you.” His smile stretches when Toni sticks her knuckles to his side and declares, “You need to stop staying cheesy shit like that.”

They kiss open-mouthed, his hands touching her body and his body feeling the touch of her hands. “Let’s go find a bed, shall we?” Toni pulls back and winks seductively at him, grabbing the collar of Steve’s t-shirt, tugging him along with her on their way to the highest apartment of the building.

The next day, when Steve wakes from his slumber, he finds that Toni was already up before him: she’s in the shower, singing a bizarre country tune. Steve’s mouth twitches in amusement and he sits up on the side of the creaking mattress, his weight heavy on the bed springs. He grumbles a little when he realizes he’ll be wearing the same clothes he wore yesterday, his grouse increased especially because it’s the second day in a row that that happens to him.

Steve has concocted the plan of dragging Toni to his house today, the desire to posture his house-borderline-mansion and his best pieces fierce in his mind. Hopefully, she'll like admiring arts and will take pleasure in being shown off to. Steve gets up, pulls on his grey briefs from the day before - at least, he tells himself, it’s clean from only but yesterday afternoon, which is not the worst that could've happened - and knocks on the joint bathroom of the penthouse's bedroom. The water stops running a heartbeat later, Toni yelling out, “Yeees?”

“I’m making breakfast! Remind me again in which level kitchen is all the food?” Steve hollers back through the white painted door.

“First floor! If I’m wrong, ask J!”

“Roger that!” Steve exits promptly, in case Toni makes a pun he doesn’t want to hear. He hears the shower running again as he reaches the hallway that leads to the lift. Steve falters momentarily in his tracks to admire an incredibly exquisite painting hung on the wall, which he never had time to admire on every other occasion he passed in front of it. He grazes the canvas with the edge of two digits, feeling the texture of its surface to see if it’s a printed version or the real deal. Steve hums, content, when he finds it’s the original depiction, aware of every brush of acrylic paint. It illustrates two swans, wings spread open and grand, the scenery set during a sunset; purple, orange, pink, red all meshing together, with a hint of green from the forest subtly placed on the left side of the image.

Curiosity satisfied, Steve steps into the lift, the doors stalling behind him. His hand freezes midway toward the panel. “JARVIS, aren’t I supposed to have a card to access this elevator? I mean, I know I’ve used this elevator almost ten times without ever needing it, but Toni told me it was needed to use this.”

“I run the whole Tower, Sir. The chip can be used, yes, but it’s quite an unnecessary weight when you are given admission by Miss Stark.”

Steve almost opens his mouth to ask what’s the point of the chips then, but that would be too close to starting an argument with a darn robot.

By the time Toni is joining him, Steve has already laid out everything, ready to dig in, on the table: sausages, eggs, bite-size pieces of apples and mangoes, fresh berries. As they eat, Steve rants about the struggles of his profession, Toni rants about the struggles of an industrialist and they both talk trash about the mainstream media, criticizing the way it treats famous people. When they’re done and full, they crash on the couch in the living room and grant themselves some time on their cell phones to check their text messages. Toni is curled, laying on her side, her legs draped over Steve’s lap. He has his right ankle crossed over his left knee, one hand wrapped around his Stark phone, the other rubbing thoughtlessly Toni’s back.

“Got any messages, or is your phone as dry as mine?” Toni raises her head to gaze at Steve.

“I don’t know. What do you mean by ‘dry’?” Steve shifts the massage-hand closer to his own body, rubbing Toni’s thigh next. Sam and Bucky contacted him, along with a not-too-important message from his upcoming film’s director, Wanda Maximoff, who Steve is rather warm with now that they’ve worked alongside for two movies. He replied to all of them hastily, promising Sam and Buck he’ll call them as soon as he can and answering affirmatively to Wanda’s casual and not unusual proposition to grab a coffee next week. It’s a tradition she does with all of the main actors and actresses from her movies, according to herself.

“Only received texts from a guy that you don’t know and Pep." Toni frowns. "Did I tell you who Pepper is?” she says, having clearly forgotten that she mentioned Pepper in practically half of her anecdotes.

“Yeah. Stark CEO?” Pepper is on Steve’s unwritten list of people he respects without having actually met them, with how Toni always and is only saying pleasant things about her. From Toni’s stories, Steve can conceive the image of somebody firm, but loyal and caring. Those are of the best qualities a person could possess, in Steve’s book.

“Yup. Anyways, I only have texts from her, and the other guy, but I haven't read his yet . Well, that is if we don’t count my…” Toni breaks away from the eye contact to glance at her screen, “1545 other messages from I-don’t-know-whos. I've even told J to not notify me about getting texts if they’re not people from a very tight list I’ve put up, with specific people on it.”

Steve’s eyebrows touch his hairline. “Your situation is quite literally the outright contrary of a dry phone. Why don’t you reply to those poor, ignored—”

“They are irrelevant people! I don’t even remember meeting 3 out of 4 of them. And the truth is, 50% of those texts is spam. Have you ever had someone write you ‘hey’ ten times in a row?”

“…Well, not really, but it’s because I always reply… I’m certain that if I never responded to them, they would’ve spammed?” Steve finishes his sentence with a inquiring tone, as if he was asking Toni to certify his thought rather than stating an assessment.

“Yeah. Makes sense," she agrees with a nod. "But we have to take into account that girls do generally have more dignity than guys in those... fields. Not many girls would send a potential date more than one text at a time.” Toni straightens up to lean against Steve’s broad body, her head tucked between his shoulder and neck. When she’s settled in her position, Steve puts his hand back on her thigh from the spot where it was hovering in the air and squeezes once, continuing stroking the bare skin in gentle movements. Toni returns to reading her messages, staying silent and presumably sending back two texts of her own, the keyboard's typing and the ’whoosh’ of the replies sending sounds disturbing the quiet of their bubble. Steve, having finished with his own business, spends his time checking Toni out. A grin illuminates her expression as she reads the text from the guy Steve apparently doesn’t know.

Steve nudges her arm. “What’s up?”

“So my good friend, Bruce, is having a party today. The invitation came out a little late, I know. Also, well, technically it’s Bruce’s boyfriend who’s throwing the party and all, but that’s a detail.” Toni beams a smile at him, clinging to his arm and giving him big eyes. "Can you come with me?"

Steve has nothing planned, exempt of the promises he made to his two best friends that can still delay, but he’s still reluctant at the idea of going to yet another celebration. Steve, a true introvert in his blood, never took much relaxation or thrill in going out. “Uhm, I don’t know. Do you really want me to tag along?”

“Of course I do! I’d get to show you off to everyone,” Toni says joyfully, but Steve sense a tinge of irony in her tone, then she kisses Steve’s cheek. “Thor - he’s the boyfriend - does the best parties. He’s truly the most feisty person I’ve ever known, even more so than myself!”

Steve puts his phone down on the cushion, and rubs his face with his now-free hand. His slow exhale sounds like a sigh, prompting Toni to add, “But if you don’t want to go, I won’t force you. We can stay in, watch movies and do some other interesting stuff.” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

“It’s… It’s not that. I’m just not a party person. But I can pretend to be an extrovert for a night, for you. You seem really eager to attend the party.”

Toni straddles Steve’s thighs and curls her arms around him. She looks at him straight in the eye, obliging him to look back, a serious expression on her face now. Steve would never confess it out loud, but he gets turned on when women radiate off an I’m-in-charge vibe. “I won’t make you do something you don’t like, Steve. I know how much it sucks to be at events you don’t want to attend but are obligated to.”

“It’s no big deal, seriously.” Steve reaches out to play with Toni’s hair, which is now barely noticeably damp, the other hand steadying her by the waist. “If I get tired, I’ll simply pull you aside and we’ll leave.”

“All right. Don’t hold back, even if I look like I’m having fun, ‘kay?” Toni warns. Steve thrums in acquiescence. “It’s at 7, by the way. We have the whole day to do other things. Any propositions as to what?”

“I really need to complete my workout routine, it’ll only take 40 minutes if you feel like joining in, but it’s an intense program. You’d look great with some rippling abs, though.” Steve grins and unceremoniously strokes Toni’s belly through the fabric of her rose pink shirt, startling a yelp out of her.

“Ugh, I think I’d prefer to just sit back and look pretty. Oh, plus, it'd give me to admire your sweaty and wrung-out form.”

“Please. You’ve already seen me in that state from up close, and I've seen you sweaty and spent before, as well...” Steve leans into the crook of her neck, breathing there while his teeth catch her flesh and forge a dark bruise.

“Really?” Toni sounds a little breathless now. “I think you’ll have to refresh my memory on that.”

Steve draws back, his back aligned with the sofa's back pillow, and says, “Well, I was thinking about baking the cupcakes we were supposed to make yesterday.”

Toni snorts. “You’re not serious, are you? You’re turning down this,” Toni gestures at her figure with both of her hands, “goddess for some cakes?”

Steve, amused, replies, “We’ll have sex after _we both_ ,” he emphasizes on the last two words, “exercise. Your body needs to stay healthy by being active. When’s the last time you ran?”

“I do a shitload of brain exercises, and I might as well being bench pressing with the arm force that my work requires.” Toni flexes her upper arm to prove her point. She has the average size of a fit woman’s arm, nothing like those weightlifters on anabolic steroids, but to humour her, Steve feigns being impressed and whistles, sending Toni into a fit of laughter, making her break her stance.

“Aw, come on, keep on exhibiting that chunk of iron beef,” he quips with a grin.

“I bet you just found out a new fetish,” Toni jokes, and gestures her arm into the same position.

Steve mimics her this time, and the dissimilarity between the two of them is so blatant that he fails at suppressing a laugh, although it does come out sounding more like an extended snort. "My arm's like a tree trunk, and yours would be a water pipe."

Toni bursts out laughing, retorting, "You're being too generous. I'm a chopstick." It's a hyperbole, of course, but it doesn't mean Steve doesn't throw his head back laughing at the outlandish concept.

He doesn't mention it, but Steve loves the feeling of being physically bigger and stronger: it relishes his sense of protectiveness over her, similar to a golden retriever over a small baby.

Toni curls her fingers around Steve's bicep first, pushing them into his flesh, squeezing. “But seriously, your body is fucking God's work.” She looks up, meeting Steve's gaze, and he notices how big her pupils are.

“Me? Have you seen yourself?” He runs an index on Toni’s cheekbone before resting his hands on her hips.

“You’re the only person in the world who could answer with that and actually sound genuine.” She smirks, slipping forward and planting a kiss on his lips.

“For the cupcakes, I thought it’d be good to go to my house for that,” Steve suggests, changing the subject to steer it back into being about the baking activity Steve's anticipating, that ought to have happened a day ago. “I have all the required ingredients, plus sprinkles. I suspect your flour’s expired, anyway.”

“That’s because I never bake.” Toni ruffles Steve’s hair, and concedes: “Fiiine. You’ll do all the baking, and I’ll do all the eating.” Steve chuckles, feeling warmth churning in his stomach. He’s somebody generally blunt, this trait in his personality urging him to proclaim his love for her right here and right now, but the words say dead in his lungs, held back by Steve’s anxiety at how Toni’d react. She would be undoubtedly perturbed by such a confession this early into the relationship and be patently pressured to say it back, whether or not she feels the same way, which she most likely doesn’t.

“Up we go, then” Steve rises to his feet, hurling Toni out of his lap and flinging her brusquely over his shoulder, causing Toni to squeal. “We’re riding my motorbike.”

Toni pats his buttcheeks and half-shouts, “Great view from down here, darling!” Steve huffs, his cheeks heating, and sets her instead in a piggyback ride position on his back, then begins to head to the lobby, where the busy streets meet the Stark Tower’s main entrance. She hooks her legs as best as she can around his abdomen and props her chin on his shoulder, the boney edge of her mandible practically digging into Steve’s clavicle when she mumbles, “Much better. My blood was draining out of my limbs and drowning my brain.”

“Yeah? Maybe your brain needed that.” Toni makes an indignant sound and retorts, “Cosmopolitan might just clash with you on this. According to them, I’m the smartest woman of this era.” She yawns and slides her forearms under Steve’s triceps to clasp her hands on top of his navel, but she unwittingly grazes his armpits while doing so, prompting Steve to shriek. Toni makes a sound that is close to a scream, exclaiming with a dumbfounded look, “You’re ticklish?! Who would’ve believed that!”

Steve heaves out a sigh and spins his head as an attempt to glare at Toni in a flippant way, warning her, “If you share this information with anyone, you’re prohibited from topping me for a month.”

“Hmm. I’ll think about it. Many people would sell their whole properties to learn what your secret weakness is.” She tilts her head, a knowing smirk appears on her mouth. “And I know for a fact that you love when I top just as much as I do.”

Steve, feeling her body slowly slipping under his grip, hoists her back up solidly with a lively spring of his arms. “Perhaps I do. Perhaps you are erroneously projecting your own feelings.” He puts up a somber expression, showing no hint of a smile, even though he has the impulse to burst out laughing at the dubious air on Toni’s face.

“Huh. Can’t say you aren’t doing the whole austere and downbeat character admirably well.” She presses her lips on Steve’s temple and pats his head, cracking out of the both of them a grin. “You are a marvelous actor, babe, I’m so proud of you,” she chirps in a patronizing tone.

“I know, right? I’ve been told that I’m the next Audrey Hepburn, except a male version.” Steve read that compliment in the comments section of an Instagram post he's been tagged on by a fan. They arrive at the double-doored elevator, Steve sticks one arm out of his hold on Toni’s thighs to push the button, carefully balancing himself to prevent anyone from falling down.

“Hepburn? I’d dare to say you’re on Leonardo DiCaprio’s degree of potency.”

Steve steps inside, then falters. “You should hop off. We’ll attract a lot of attention if I’m walking with you glued to my back.”

Toni lets out a whine, but jumps back onto her heels nevertheless, after giving Steve’s neck a peck. She hits a switch, the faint blue glow that illuminates each of the buttons rising into a stronger light to the just activated one, standing out like a halo is circling it.

The other door slides open smoothly and silently, but noise - heels clicking on a polished floor, quiet chatter, the rustle of papers and clatter of objects - forthwith floods the cramped lift in waves. It's daytime, not early enough for it to be when the halls would be at their busiest, but it's the first time Steve's been in the building and is seeing more than only a handful of people spread around in the halls. Every person walking around is adorned with immaculate, expensive attires, more men than not with a watch.

Toni greets back the workers who cross them, throwing ‘Hi’s, ‘I’m good, thank you’s, ‘Have a good one’s and polite smiles around. Most of the workers have a proper professional expression masking their feelings, but some have the emotion of either surprise or judgement inscribed over their face. The reason for that? Steve cannot put his finger on it.

Following their exit of the Stark Tower, Toni exchanges brief pleasantries with the security guard. They stroll in a swift pace to Steve's bike, worried about people recognizing either one of them, then asking for a picture. Steve loves his fans dearly, God knows he does, but he isn't in the mood to stop for an impromptu meet-and-greet right now.

Steve hands the extra helmet to Toni when they get to their ride, clipping his own piece of protection into place. He retracts the visor, shade replacing the blinding rays of the sun everywhere he looks, and effecting him into an unrecognizable man.

Only when he feels Toni’s arms locked on his belly, securely tying her to him, does he turn the engines on and roll onto the main street.

Twenty minutes later, Steve hops onto his feet, anticipation rising inside him at the prospect of Toni visiting his home. The first thing she does is pull off the helmet, her beautiful face and its sharp features coming into sight. She shakes her head to get the hair out of the way, the straight tips falling to the lower half on her chest.

Steve pulled up where he originally left, that is to say, they're currently in his backyard.

A crowd of apple and pear trees stand on one side of the lane, the fruits not ripe yet, still in development. Closer to the patio is a strangely shaped pool; not quite an oval, or a circle, or any specific form, really. In Steve’s opinion, you could compare it to the figure of a penguin. Five chaise lounges with immaculately white cushions are placed in parallel to the irregular curve of the pool, the model picked by Natasha herself. She likes to play decorator and talks a lot about interior designs with her friend’s friend, a certain Foggy Nelson.

The scenery from here isn’t as lavish as from the front of the residence, but it’s still eye candy if you’re obsessed with house viewing.

Steve most often produces drawings that come purely off the top of his head, but he still enjoys sketching with reference pieces as well, and when the realtor displayed a photograph of this building, Steve just knew he had to make a subject of his drawings. It’s truly the reason why he chose this one - whose architectural finesse could totally compete with that of the St-Paul’s Cathedral - even if its depense was higher, despite possessing less square footage than every other mansion the real estate agent presented Steve.

Yeah, he essentially bought a house for the sake of using it afterwards as model for the sketches in his little notebook.

His memories of Buck’s reactions when he learned about Steve’s new investment are very comical: first, reverence at how stunning the place is, then shock at how much capital Steve spent for it, and lastly, disbelief at the absurd reasoning as to why he chose the most expensive property presented to him. “I miss the old you, when you were more humble in your depenses,” Bucky informed him later.

Toni sways a leg over the seat cushion, falling to her feet. She sinks her fists into the dips of her waist and puffs out a heavy breath. “Cute shack you have here, hmm?”

Steve grabs her wrists and pins them together on her back, twisting his neck to beam at her, his body pressed behind Toni, his face hovering above her. “Not what you expected?”

“It's very artistic.” Toni rises to press a kiss on Steve’s chin. “You’re an artist, I guess?”

“You could say so.” Steve guides Toni to the patio from behind her, pushing her waist forward with his firm grip, letting her climb the three steps that compose the stairs separating the grass section from the concrete stone section of the poolside. She lifts her forearms above her head, still holding Steve’s hands, and twirls around, her fixed stare now elevated equally with Steve's.

“Is it photography?”

“Nuh-uh. But I can take decent pictures.” He pushes a chaste kiss to her lips.

“You shall be my saviour then! My Instagram needs new pictures and I suck at selfies.” The images of the lewd selfies she sent him not long ago instantaneously resurface in his mind, Steve opens his mouth to object her last statement, but he loses his momentum just as fast, shutting it close. Toni looks like she knew what he was about to assert, a sly smile forming on her face. But regardless if Steve thought right or not, no mentions about it come out of her.

“Oh, I know!” She slaps her hand on her forehead, scrunching her eyes close. “It was so obvious, but I didn’t realize. In your pastime, you are an architect!”

Steve imitates the sound of a buzzer when someone is wrong.

“All right, I’m gonna go with the... let's say 'standard', and most basic type of artist. You draw in a flimsy sketching book, with flimsy graphite pencils.”

Steve beams at her, unprovoked by her lighthearted jabs. “ _That_ does fit my character profile.”

Toni rolls her eyes and pulls him into a searing kiss. When she pulls back, the first thing she does is ask: “I want to see them! Ooh, you should draw me someday. If you’re still a good boy by then,” she threads Steve’s hair with her fingers, and he feels the loose, but pleasant tug on his scalp, “I’ll even let you use me as a nude model, like your French girls.”

Steve chuckles and retorts playfully, “That is not the quote from the movie, you uncultured twit.”

“I’m too busy to remember those things word for word, mon petit chou.” Toni’s eyes gleam under the rays of sunlight, making her oceans look translucent, the slender, pitch black outline of her irises even more pronounced, like somebody painted azure on a crystal globe. Her natural, uncoated lashes create minuscule shadows on them when they’re not batting insistently, trying to shield the retinas from excessive and unfiltered brightness.

He drapes his fingers on her chiseled cheekbones, the skin soft under his touch. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever had the luck of meeting, ma cocotte. Tellement et trop splendide, magnifique, incroyable, superbe. La plus brillante aussi.”

_Je t’aime_ are, evidently, hanging back in his lungs. Toni casts her gaze downward, and Steve notices a hint of a blush crawling up her neck at his praise.

“Steve, I want you to know something…” she starts, uncharacteristically timid. His heart leaps at the cuteness of it all, adoration flooding his insides. A smirk drags itself onto her expression, and she says, “‘cocotte’ means casserole in French.”

Steve bursts out laughing, having not expected her to deliver that. “You truly are a twit! It’s a term of endearment, not some casserole!” He hauls her into a short-lived embrace, both of them shaking with laughter.

“Then why did they call it ‘cocotte’ last time I ordered a casserole in France?” She launches her palm to cover Steve’s mouth before he can respond. “Ahh, don’t answer that, I figured out why! You called me a casserole because I’m a delicious meal, didn’t you?”

Steve snatches her by the elbows and declares, “Okay, enough of that, miss. I still have a house tour to give you before we get to the very important reason of your visit.”

“Actually, could we do the baking now? I am  _starved_.” The comment draws a snort from Steve.

“We ate an hour ago. There is no way you’re already hungry this early, and I know you can spend days and nights without touching a crumb of food.”

“It’s not the same, darling. That happens only when I'm working. Work takes my mind off everything my body needs.” Toni smiles, likes it’s no big deal.

“Like water? And sleep? And nourishment?” Steve gets a bit exasperated when he thinks about how often she neglects her health, worry spiking his nerves every time.

Toni’s smile dissipates. “Just because you’re my boyfriend doesn’t mean you get to control me. We do things very differently for a reason, Steve. For example,  _I_ don’t need to force myself to live out a perfect, healthy lifestyle that  _you_ have to maintain for your reputation in front of your female teenage fans.”

Steve discerns her point, regardless of how Toni never actually refers to it directly. “Why would you think I workout because I want to have people obsess over me? Me working out and being healthy is not for them. It’s not for the public. It’s for myself.”

“Don’t act dumb. You know that in the movie industry, groomed looks and built bodies attract viewers and make people gain fans more than anything, even one's actual acting skills. Especially since the viewers and fans are, most of the time, composed of women.”

It stings a little, because a lot of male actors do start exercising when they get into the industry to seem more appealing to both the casting people and the audience, and Steve was one of them. It’s true that - now - he does it for himself, but he can’t say his looks didn’t help him gain popularity.

“This is not even about me, Toni. You are seriously overreacting. Why do you get so mad when people care about your wellbeing?” Steve raises his voice, frowning now, his hands curling into fists, dropped on his sides, the two of them staring each other down.

“I hate when people tell me what to do. Nobody owns me, not even you.” She has her arms crossed over her chest, her raven hair covering her cheekbones when a breeze blows by.

“So it’s all just a problem of ego, hmm? Is that it?” Anger emerges in Toni’s expression, her brows unhappily tight. “All that anger when somebody who cares about you voices their concern, just because you don’t want to feel, what, weak?”

“Weak? I’ve searched about you on the Internet, Steve -- and before you start claiming I’m a stalker, it was to make sure you’re not just a creep with good appearances. In almost your whole career, with the exception of the earliest years, you’ve only taken roles of,” she unfolds her arms to air quote, wiggling her fingers in the air, “'strong' and authoritative men. A boxer, a war officer, a secret agent for an all-powerful organization, a supersoldier, and whatnot. I do believe that says a lot about you.”

Steve clenches his jaw and, unwilling to even consider what Toni's insinuating,  snaps, “Perhaps it’s because when the damn film directors contact me, they insist my built is more than suitable for what the characters look like, I agreed with them? Do you really think it would be realistic for a reputed boxer to have a beer body? For a genius like you, you're being quite oblivious to things that should've been common sense.”

Toni ignores completely his small dig, retorting, her voice not wavering or raising once, “No. Your built is the excuse you use, but the reason why you go for those roles is because you want to make the world forget about your old, scrawny self. Just because you don’t want to feel weak, right?” she repeats Steve’s words from earlier.

He’s pretty secure about himself and his beliefs, so he doesn’t take too much offense in what she’s saying, but he knows his mind won’t be able to stop chewing over it later. Probably right when he’ll be attempting to fall asleep. Steve is also short of replies, so instead he purses his lips into a rigid line.

“I’m going back home. I’ll send you Bruce’s address, in case you want to show up at the party.” She bypasses Steve, moving her shoulder on purpose so it doesn’t brush against Steve. He reaches to grab her upper arm, his mouth opening to try finding something to say, but she flips his hand away dryly. He exhales a deep breath at the jerk, words composing themselves at last on his tongue.

“You have no ride and if you leave from my backyard, you’ll just be pushing yourself deeper into the suburbs.” Toni turns around to glare at Steve, chipping away a small bit of his heart at her icy expression, but he still cares about her safety more than anything else, even how he's feeling at the moment. “And if you go to the front, there's be a flock of paparazzis who'll harass you. You being in an angry state, not emotionally sober, will only make you say regrettable things.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” Steve tries a weak smile that fails at pacifying Toni. “Come on in. I’ll give you a brief house tour so you won’t have to talk to me to ask where the bathroom is, if you end up needing it.”

Steve spins around, clicking his silver key into the lock of the back door, the glass sliding open. Toni follows him quietly into the vast kitchen, annoyance written all over her face. They walk to the entryway closet to remove and place their shoes there, before Steve gives her the promised guided visit. Toni stays mute throughout the whole tour, a sterile expression having cleaned the irritation, at least on the surface, but Steve can tell she’s soaking every detail of the residence’s magnificent interior design (Steve hired a high-rated professional for the aesthetic decorations).

Taking their exit from the third and final floor, the visit concluded, Steve guides her back to his art room, located near the kitchen. “You can stay here and look through my notebooks. I’ll be right back.” He flickers a smile, before skirting to the kitchen with the intention to fetch two glasses of the pink lemonade he had purchased, and a plate of the homemade double-chocolate pastries he baked himself three days ago - if there are still some left, that is.

He opens the cabinets to get dishes out, their soft landing on the marble of the counter producing a clinking sound, before stepping to the fridge and pouring the sugary drinks. Steve spots the pastries on the top shelf, and is barely stretching his arm when he reaches them. Five tiny, triangular cakes are sitting on the porcelain plate, wrapped under a layer of food packaging film. Of course, the fifth piece will be left for Toni to eat.

Steve has the urge to apologize to her for the mean things he’s said, but he also believes he’s the one who should get an apology for how Toni implied that he’s staying physically healthy to keep his fanbase, because that’s just bullcrap, but what is bothering him the most is how she hinted that… Steve’s the one actively attempting to erase his old image. But perhaps she’s right and Steve _was_ being a hypocrite. He’ll need to ruminate on that thought.

He returns to the art room with his palms full. “Hey, Toni. Still starved?” Steve approaches Toni, who’s slumped on the fluffy one person couch, her calves crossed in front of her belly, and he pushes the plate in the air, toward her direction, as a silent offer.

“Sure.” She takes one of the baked goods, holding it between her middle finger and thumb, and bites a narrow corner off of it, like she fears it'd taste bad. “Tastes good.” She plops the rest into her mouth, chewing quietly as Steve puts the food on the low plastic table next to the armchair and drops himself on the footstool before Toni. He shuffles his seat forward, one thrust as first to see if Toni would object, but when she stays immobile, he drags himself until he has to turn his legs sideways from the couch, his body now twisted. He rests one forearm on the cushion of the couch, grazing Toni’s covered toes, and tilts his head to observe her beautiful features, an attempt to identify what she's thinking and how she's feeling. Unfortunately for him, Toni puts on the best poker face when she wants to.

“I’m glad you think it does.” Steve breathes in a lungful of air. “We should discuss about the elephant in the room.”

Toni’s fingers wander to his hair, caressing the top of his skull, her other arm covering her crossed legs, Toni's fist gripping the fabric of her leggings. Steve feels enormous relief at the contact, because it means she isn’t mad at him anymore, although there’s probably still residual anger left. That is easier to deal with.

“I’m sorry about earlier, for the stuff I said about you.”

“I apologize for what I said too, and for raising my voice.”

They look at each other for a moment, then Toni uncrosses her legs and lowers them to the ground, side-by-side, her shins hitting the footstool, her calves squeezed against the couch, in the cramped space between the two furniture pieces. Steve takes one glance at it, decides it looks uncomfortable, and uses his grip to lay them gently on his lap, warmth seeping off Toni's limbs and heating his flesh through the fabric of his khakis more and more as the seconds, then minutes, die.

“You're forgiven,” Toni says, reaching out for another bite.

“So are you. Again, I'm sorry, and I hope it won't escalate like that again.” He smiles warmly, feeling like a heavy weight has gone from his shoulders, then takes his glass to sip the sweetened liquid.

“Is that lemonade?” Toni asks, her brows drawn in disbelief this time, her mouth still full, her pronunciation altered by the chewing.

Steve makes a noise with his tongue after he swallows his drink, answering, “Yeah. According to me, it's just water, sugar and colouring.”

“Delicious.” She moans ironically, and grabs Steve's glass, gulping down until it's halfway drunk. “Hmm, not bad. I love pink lemonade, even if the concept of pink lemonade makes no sense.”

He chuckles, stretching his arm to take hold of the other drink in order to set it down closer to him on the floor. Steve catches the plate as well, stuffs his mouth with two of the chocolates, leaving the last one for Toni.

She takes it greedily, munching off a small bite, but to Steve's surprise, guides the other uneaten part to his mouth, an endearing grin on her face. Steve parts his lips, Toni fitting the cake in, but he holds it carefully between his teeth, plunging forward to share the last pastry with her like that, The Lady and the Tramp style. He feels his lips quirk into a smile when he hears Toni's rumble, caused by her giggles, both of them biting off one half before their lips meet. Steve’s fist flies to the back of her skull, holding her there, hungry for more. Toni opens her mouth,the sweet, chocolate taste of her tongue making Steve groan, his tongue flicking out to get more of the taste. She moves her body forward, now sat in Steve's lap, which is an alleviation: he doesn't need to twist his neck anymore. Toni's  legs are still orientated on his left, in the identical position they were in when they first landed on his lap, so he grabs her hips, pushing them in the other direction to try to turn her body around. Toni follows what he's trying to do instantly, lifting one leg to straddle Steve’s thighs.

He feels pressure on his chest, palms roaming leisurely over it. Steve takes a handful of her ass, his grasp on her feeling even fuller with the leggings covering Toni. When he leans back, Toni has kept her eyes shut, a soft expression painted on her at last, Steve's whole body to hurt almost painfully with adoration for her. He kisses the line of her neck and her collarbone a fistful of times, when Toni says, “I'm still hungry, can we bake the cupcakes?”, the low vibration of her voice humming. A laugh escapes Steve's lungs, and he pulls her into a tight embrace, dropping his eyelids to better concentrate on her heavenly scent. “Yes, of course.”

 

 

 

The place is filled to the brim, people bouncing everywhere, their arms sticking out above heads. Disco lights are illuminating the otherwise dark rooms, music being blared from at least three different Bluetooth speakers.

Steve's fingers are snugly clutching Toni's waist, her red mini skirt and black, sleeveless top doing wonders on her. When he saw her dressed like that, his mouth watered and Steve is fairly certain he got hard, nevermind that he came about 10 minutes ago.

Her hair is, like it always is when she's out: high on her scalp. This time, it’s in the form of a classic bun studded with round, tiny crystals of the same colour as her irises. Toni's more or less five centimetres taller than usual with the heels she's sporting, though they're unable to make her eyes fully reach even just Steve's nose.

They came here with Steve’s favourite car: old-fashioned and blue. Speeding out past the house gates, Toni saw reporters posted on the surrounding streets hurrying into their trucks and tailing them. Steve tried to lose them by swerving around blocks and corners dozens of times, speeding up above the limit when there were no moving cars around to unwittingly hit or graze, both of them laughing as if they were demented with Toni screaming at Steve to hurry up when she saw a truck keeping up.

It was the most fun Steve had had for months.

“We need to find Bruce, you two have to be introduced. He’s probably in a corner being awkward.” Toni shouts over the R&B song currently in play.

“What does he look like?” Steve yells back, his eyes darting to every corner his sight can reach, searching for someone outstandingly uncomfortable.

“Brown hair, white skin but kind of tan, hopefully no glasses, medium height.”

The problem is, in this dimness, almost every man present could fit the description given.

“Oh my god, Thor!” Toni starts dragging Steve through the crowd, as a loud, accented voice booms, “Stark! You came!”

They halt in front of an imposing man, his sandy blonde hair pooled over his broad shoulders.

If Steve's bicep was a tree trunk, Thor’s would be a column of the parthenon.

Thor pulls Toni into a suffocating embrace, Steve catching her in his arms when she staggers out of the cuddle, a huge grin illuminating her face. He looks back at Thor and realizes he’s the next prey; Thor laughs loudly, before crushing Steve in a one-shoulder embrace. “Is this your fella?”, he demands Toni, pulling himself away and unintentionally, by the same movement, pushing Steve backwards.

“Yup. All mine.” Toni winks at her friend with a toothy smile, slipping her forearms around Steve’s neck.

He loops his thumbs into his waistband, tilts his head down by reflex for a fraction of a second and chuckles awkwardly when he looks back up, exclaiming, “Uh, hi! I'm Steve.”

“Steve! May I ask, what is your full name?”

Steve frowns a little, because that is a little odd of a question, but wipes his expression into a clean smile just as fast, so to not look judgemental or arrogant, replying with a raise of his eyebrows, “It’s Steven Grant Rogers, but really, you can just call me Steve.”

“Steven! That's… a very nice name!” Thor glances at Toni, a weird expression on his face, and when Steve follows his stare, he founds her with a cringing expression. _What is going on?_

“I'm sorry, did I miss something?” Steve asks, accompanied by a fake laugh to make his inquiry sound more lighthearted. A random partygoer bumps him on the back.

“It's nothing, baby. Thor just knows-- he has a close friend named Stephen too.”

Thor breaks into laughter, the thundering sound catching Steve off guard and further building his confusion.

“You have no concern to upset yourself with, my good friend! Stephen shall be nowhere to be seen, not today!”

Steve doesn’t ask who that mysterious man is, but from what he’s hearing about him, he doesn’t sound like good news, which is plenty enough for Steve to know about the person at the moment.

“Toni, I’m going to look for drinks, alright?” He looks up at Thor. “Do you guys serve virgin cocktails here?”

“I’m good, don’t bother,” Toni cuts in. “Besides, we need to introduce you to Brucie Bear, first and foremost. Thor, where’s your boyfriend?”

“Bruce’s sat on the balcony, observing the constellations!”

Following Thor's indication, the three of them exchange long goodbyes and hugs. Toni grabs Steve’s hand, and he lets himself be led to a deserted, narrow stairway. She opens the heavy metal door, examining the vacant place. Steve doesn't see any stars, stargazing with the naked eye being impossible when you're located in a city.

“Banner?” Toni cooes, stretching out the ‘a’. When no one echoes an answer, she shouts, “Bruce?”

A clunk is heard, Toni perks up and follows the noise, while Steve follows Toni.

Behind a brick wall is the famous Bruce Banner, crouched next to a huge, expensive portable telescope. The man looks taken aback, his mouth stuttering as he rises to his whole height, which comes about to Toni’s height when she's barefoot.

“Toni!” Bruce walks up to her, who had spread her arms wide, smiling so big it looks like it’s about to split her face. It prompts joy to bloom in Steve as well, seeing her in such high spirits. He already likes this Bruce guy.

“Long time no see! Were you on another planet or something?” Toni asks jokingly, pulling back with her head tilted.

“Haha, you could say that; I went to live in India for a year. Thor payed me a lot of visits during that period.” He turns to Steve, and his body jerks slightly, in surprise perhaps. Bruce holds his hand out. “I’m so sorry, we haven't met yet, have we?” Steve is strangely soothed by his oddly calm and serene voice.

He smiles and takes Bruce's outstretched hand. His grasp is gentle and warm. “Steve Rogers. You're Bruce, yes? Toni’s told me a lot about you.”

“Heh, I have barely told you anything about him. If you think I am a genius, you're going to think Bruce’s the next Einstein.”

Bruce looks embarrassed at the praise, chuckling softly while shaking his head, his hands clasped together. “But we have very different fields, too. Toni’s a mechanical engineer, while I am an expert in bio-organics, or uh, you could also say atomic physicist. Our smarts are hardly commensurable.”

“Oh. Of course.” Steve creases his brow. “So, you’re observing the stars with all this? Not much of a party animal?” He waves at the equipment behind Bruce as he speaks.

“No,” he laughs, “I am... the epitome of the typical, awkward introvert. Would you two like to use my scope?” Bruce stares the instrument on the ground.

Wind blows across them; it’s a little chilly due to the fact they’re on a 28 storey building’s top floor. Toni throws herself onto Steve’s side, shivering, prompting him to wrap his arms around her to rub heat onto her small body, shielding her from the weather. His eyes meet Toni’s, and he shoots her an inquiring expression, communicating without words.

She nods and shrugs, “If you don't mind, why not. Steve’s an artist, he might just get inspiration from observing those gorgeous constellations. You can go break the ice and try it first, sugar.” Toni lifts herself, clasping Steve’s v-neck shirt firmly enough to wrinkle it, and kisses his mouth.

He smirks and responds ironically, “Sure thing, honey sweet sweetheart.”

Twenty minutes later, Bruce decides to pack his telescope up, fearing it’ll get crashed onto the concrete by the winds that are only getting fiercer. Toni and Steve wait for him, planning to go back to his and Thor’s place all of them together. The conversation flows smoothly between the three of them, and even when Bruce and Toni have their occasional discussion about scientific topics, they include Steve by asking his point of view on them and attempting at explaining a couple of points to him, even fully knowing he barely comprehends the subjects. When Bruce asks him to share bits and pieces about Steve's own passions and pastimes, Steve talks about his love for art, whether it comes into him in the form of notebook sketches or in the form of acting.

They are back into the heated and filled condo, Bruce now visibly uncomfortable with all the people bouncing everywhere and the aggressive rap song being blasted.

Toni intertwines her and Bruce’s arms, keeping him close. “I’m going to help Bruce find Thor. Could you grab me a water bottle?”

“All right. I’ll wait for you in front of the bathrooms,” Steve half-yells back at her, his voice carrying over the music. Toni smiles and lifts a thumb to express assent, then disappears with her friend in the sea of people.

He tries to get past the wide living room, which should get renamed for ‘living hell’. His size doesn’t exactly aid him in squeezing between everyone, and both occasions a woman has made the effort to stop him and force him to dance with them were extremely troublesome, in an embarrassing and awkward way.

Woman one grabbed him by the wrist and leaped way too close to his face, telling him flatteries that made him blush. Woman two went straight to the point, assaulting him by sticking her knee against his crotch. When he tried to confront her about it, indignant, she claimed that he apparently touched her ass first. Steve's hands were tucked in his front pockets, and the only part of his body that made contact with other bodies were his shoulders and arms, with the occasional stray shin, so either she was lying or it was just by someone from the apparent two millions other people in the same room.

He soon realizes that a lot of the partygoers have familiar faces; they are people that he’s seen before, who work in the movie industries, which suggest that Thor could be an actor, just like Steve.

He, at last  manages to scramble into the kitchen, ignoring the few men and women present taking a break from dancing. A stack of unopened plastic bottles were thrown on the floor, and he snatches two of them away hastily, then he's on his way to the rendez-vous spot.

No more than two minutes afterward, Toni joins him, wiping her brow with the back of her palm, looking unsurprisingly hot; she probably was obliged to skid through the living room to get here. They still agree to get back there, though, Steve having missed dancing with her. They dance, Toni's eyes locked on his just like her hands are, before a couple interrupts them and pulls them into a remote part of the room. Steve’s irritation is cleared when he identifies who it is: James and Carol, Toni’s friends. She jumps into Carol’s arms, yelling, “Holy fuck! I didn’t expect the two of you here!” before she moves on to choke James in a bear hug, who laughs and pats her back.

Steve gives Carol a polite hug. As they withdraw, she exclaims, “Hey, Steve! I’ve always wanted to meet you. Your films are fantastic, really.”

“Thank you so much! I’ve watched one of yours, as well, I enjoyed it a lot.” He turns to Rhodey and they give each other a side hug.

“What’s up, man?” he says, his arm slung around Carol's solid shoulders, both of them looking comfortable with the position.

“Not much.” Steve flashes a smile. “You know, I think I heard your whole album being played earlier. I have to admit it's not my genre, but it was very enjoyable."

Rhodey pats his upper arm, chuckling. "Makes me feel humbled to know that one of the most successful actors in the world recognize my music."

The two couples spend the rest of the night all together, Carol and Steve clicking off right away. She has very similar nature and values to him, stubborn, genuinely good-hearted and with a strong sense of leadership, if somewhat self-righteous. He likes her quite a lot, even exchanging phone numbers with her at some point during the night.  Steve senses a solid and dynamic trio forming rapidly between him, Toni and Carol, though it doesn't mean Rhodey doesn't fit just as well between them three. He likes Rhodey - the man is obviously precious and, really, crucial to Toni, which is the most important part. Steve can relate to their powerful bond too, as he sees parallels between their friendship and him and Bucky’s.

Needless to say, Steve has a wonderful time, and when his newly acquainted friends take their leave, he gives them a full hug this time, making promises about grabbing a coffee together soon. Following that, the mountain of exhaustion that built up for hours collapses onto him, his socialising battery thoroughly drained. Steve proposes Toni to go home with him and spend the night, just to assuage his desire for another opportunity to take care of her and feed her, when the next day'll come around.

She accepts, but it doesn’t change the expression of hesitancy he notices as she does.  Steve doesn’t comment on it, presuming that the reluctancy was due to her fatigue; her movements are not notably sluggish, but still noticeably so for Steve, who's only used to Toni's usual lively self. He smiles fondly at her when she yawns with her two hands lifted to cover her mouth, and grabs Toni’s hand, the two of them heading to the ground floor. They get lucky, being the only ones who enter the elevator during the whole ride, so they also make out.

When Steve feels the lift coming to a halt, he pulls back, panting, and presses a chaste kiss to Toni’s hair. “Are you cold?”

“I’ll be fine, honey. Let’s try to quickly get to your car.”

They step outside the building, when a tidal wave of blinding light hits them, startling Steve, who instinctively pulls Toni back with his arm. About a dozen of people are yelling at once, but Steve makes out a handful of sentences.

“Mister Rogers! Is it true Toni Stark is your new fling?”

“Miss Stark! Are you and Steve Rogers in a serious relationship?”

“Steve, didn’t you just break up with superstar Sharon Carter?”

“Mister Rogers, how long has this been going on?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be too busy running a company to whore around?”

Crap. The damn paparazzi found them and were waiting for them. Steve clenches his grip around Toni, a futile attempt at shielding her from the few more aggressive reporters. Toni hides her face as best she can, her knuckles blanched where they're gripping her wallet. They hurry to the private parking lot of the condo building, anyone without a special permit prohibited to enter, but their cameras still follow their figures for a moment from afar.

It's only when the car doors shut close that Steve exhales out a deep sigh of relief, despite that they’ve left the paparazzi’s sight half a minute ago.

Toni looks more indifferent than anything, but there's a pinch of irritation in her traits.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks, pulling her head closer to kiss her brow agitatedly, then holding her there in the crease of his neck.

“I'm used to it.” Toni draws back to undo her bun, taking off the jewellery one by one, and . “I can even predict to you that, tomorrow morning, everyone will be talking about us.” Her dark hair falls down, but the strands don't stay there; she pulls them immediately into a high ponytail, tying it tautly with a black elastic she pulls out of her wallet, leaving loose the shorter strands on the front.

“They would've found out about us sooner or later.” Steve threads his fingers through his own hair.

Toni inhales slowly, before declaring, “I think I better stay at my place for tonight. I had a meeting tomorrow, anyway, but we could meet at your house after that.”

His gaze settles on her side profile. She's observing the yellow car parked before them.

“Sure. Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

Steve starts the car, zooming onto the road and sighing when the press is still there, waiting for their prey to come out.

They arrive to Stark Tower not long after, the silence of the ride home only filled by songs that the radio plays. Toni unbuckles her safety belt, turning to Steve with a soft smile.

“Tonight was amazing." Her fingers reach out to graze Steve's cheek.

“It was,” he agrees, leaning into her warm touch. “Meeting your friends was the best part of the evening. Though the food is a close second.”

His comment squeezes a chuckle out of Toni. The corners of Steve’s mouth turn upward as well, taking this as a victory.

“Goodnight, Steve.”

“Nighty night, beautiful.”

Steve thinks she's about to get out when she launches at his lips, pulling him by the hem of his shirt into a series of searing and hot kisses. They go at it until their lips become swollen off of all the biting and sucking, Toni’s body lax spread half on top of him. She draws back abruptly, the back of her palm wiping something on her chin, a smug look on her face.

“Sweet dreams, darling.” She winks and exits the vehicle, leaving Steve out of breath and horny.

He watches her get safely inside the building before starting the car and making his way back home.  Steve doesn't take care of his erection, dropping on his bed like a stick, dizzy with fatigue, and falling asleep minutes later.

 

 

 

Steve regains consciousness slowly, caused by the uncomfortable feeling of his back lacking cover from his bedsheet, feeling like he can sense every miniature variation in the temperature. He groans and shifts his body to pull the sheet onto his nude back, every movement exhausting him infinitely.

Unfortunately, the need to pee also snakes up on him. Steve sighs, getting up in a leisurely pace and heads to the bathroom to do his business.

The Roman clock hung outside his bedroom indicates 6:05.

Steve doesn't go back to bed, instead, he preps himself for his (almost) daily workout: t horough stretching session, intensive aerobics, a twenty minutes jog of 15 kilometres and to top it off, a protein shake.  When he gets out of the shower, it’s past seven.

Steve fixes himself a healthy and light breakfast, picking up his cell phone before digging in his food. He replies to the messages from a fistful of friends and acquaintances and calls Sam for fifteen minutes before texting Toni.

To Toni, delivered at 7:41: Good morning!

Steve puts his device down while he waits for an answer, chewing on a piece of honey melon mixed with vanilla yogurt and observing a squirrel sprint across his backyard. His phone vibrates and makes a sound.

From Toni, delivered at 7:43: Hi

Steve frowns. There is nothing inheritably wrong with the text, but he can't help but believe something’s off.

To Toni, delivered at 7:43: Are you all right? Everything OK?

From Toni, delivered at 7: 44: the media’s at it again, like I predicted...

Steve hasn't gone on any social media application or looked at the news, but dread starts building up inside him, anxiety surfacing.

To Toni, delivered at 7:45: I haven't seen the news yet, I’ll have to go check what's happening

To Toni, delivered at 7:45: I’ll text you right after

His anxiety is making his stomach clench and his mind ache, the feelings of apprehension and fear at how people could be talking about them feeding it like a flesh-eating virus that’s found a live, warm host. Celebrity is truly a double-edged sword.

Only when Steve is finished reading the flooding comments on his social media accounts, which are all asking or discussing about him and Toni’s relationship, or just Toni herself, does he move on to specific news platforms that follow famous people’s lives.

Steve’s anxiety is now a ball of churning heat pooling inside him, but it's not for him that he's weary about. The media was relatively merciful on him, but relentless on Toni.

He returns on his Instagram, his throat feeling dry. Steve reads one particularly long comment on his activity feed.

 

**c.aptainrogers** commented: Are some of y'all really stanning this relationship of Steve with a mass murderer? Toni Stark is problematic for so many reasons, but y'all can't see that because she's pretty and white. She has never shown online or public support for ANY kind of activism movement, and imo, she’s a closeted white feminist. It wouldn't shock me to see her giving news on FoxNews in 30 years, when she’ll be wrinkly and have her hair dyed blond. Plain and simple, the fact is, Steve Rogers is too good for her. I’d be disappointed in him for choosing someone who probably has as many STDs than I have cells in my body, but honestly? There is no way Steve would’ve agreed to date her under normal circumstances, so either this relationship is a publicity stunt for his movie sequel we KNOW will happen (I can’t wait for that!!), or Toni threatened to hack his bank accounts. Lmao, best case scenario is Steve knows what he's doing and he's just leeching off her wealth, but at this point Steve’s probably more successful than Toni stark.

 

He blinks twice, feeling himself get cold all over. The comment has over two thousand likes, making his stomach drop, feeling beyond upset. Steve clicks on the text below that makes more comments appear, hoping to see someone defending Toni. He reads the reply that has been liked the most, with around 1500 likes.

 

**starryaurora**  commented: preach. besides, did you look at the video tmz released? steve was being the soft protective gentleman he naturally is with everyone, trying to shield toni, but toni was just acting like a selfish bitch, not even thinking about her “boyfriend” STEVE, as if the pap gave more fucks about her. anyways you should zoom into steve's face asdlfks he looks like he's grabbing a pile of shit i can't,, my poor baby!!! i secretly wish him and sharon are going to get back together, they were fkin adorable and sharon is an actual queen

 

Steve feels bile coming up his throat, emotions drowning him in a state of disgust and anger. He tries to calm himself down by breathing slowly, in and out, in and out, but it doesn't work.

To Toni, delivered at 9:00: Toni, can you come over? I could pick you up

He fiddles with his food, stabbing squares of his freshly cut melon multiple times, without putting them in his mouth, his hand shaky and his breaths coming out in pants.

From Toni, delivered at 9:03: i’ll be there soon

To Toni, delivered at 9:03: Great. Be safe

Steve gets up, puts his breakfast away in the fridge, his hunger completely gone, and heads to the entryway. He can’t even begin to imagine how she must feel right now, being crushed under the critics and hundred insults of every person on the internet. The urge to comfort takes over his mind, and he straightens from his leaning position against the wall, walking back to the room he was formerly in, pulling out the dozen of cupcakes leftover - they made two trays of twelve pastries - and heating them in the oven so the chocolate inside is melting. Steve honestly doubts Toni would want to eat anything more than he does, but comfort foods have helped him through tough periods in his life.

But this is not good enough. This will not truly help Toni feel better. Steve’s mind is racing about actions he could do to help her, to dullen this situation, but the doorbell interrupts his train of thoughts.

He rushes to the entrance and pulls Toni into a surprisingly gentle embrace before she can even step inside. He’s smelling the faint perfume of her hair conditioner, his palms pressing Toni into him on the small of her back. Steve drops his eyelids when he feels Toni returning his embrace, her hands grazing up to his shoulders, and his lungs let out a deep breath.

They eventually withdraw, and Steve feels like the imaginary flesh-eating virus just consumed his heart at the sight of Toni’s hurt expression, sadness drawn on every line of her face, an emotion that looks so alien on her typically lively and joyful face. Her mouth and brows twitch, like she’s about to burst into tears, but she doesn't.

Right now, he would've given his own life if it meant the woman he loves would never feel this way ever again. Steve opens his mouth, ready to say anything to make her understand that she's better than what the media is painting her as, make her believe what  _he_ believes she is: a prodigious, impossibly talented, funny, witty and irreplaceable person. Curses and shit-talking about... about the rest of the whole world are on the tip of his tongue, but instead, what comes out in the end is:

“Toni, I love you. I've never loved anyone in my life more than I love you.”

 


End file.
